
^(m&m 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 



OhapT-3-iJ. Copyright Ko. 
Shelf ,<" /"^^L^ 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Smiles and Tears 

from the Klondyke 



A Collection of Stories and Sketches 
with eight Illustrations 



By 

Alice Rollins Crane 

Author of '• The Dawson Widow," " Priest and Man," "'Juanita," etc. 



J» 



Doxey's 

At the Sign of the Lark 
New York 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 

Two COPiES RrCEIVED, 

FEB. 27 1901 

Copyright entry 
CLASS 2J\»<|(B. No. 

Hi 

COPY B. 



.vl 6 i 



Copyright, 1901, 
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE. 



\ 



o 



COMTENTS 



PAGB 

Introduction 7 

Ti-SuK 13 

The Flood Around Koyekuk 19 

" QuARE " Cases 41 

N. W. M. P 49 

She Is Dead 57 

A Dawson Magdalene 67 

One of the Many 77 

A Miner Poet 85 

A Tale of Tails 89 

After Christmas in the Police Court 95 

" Only One More" j 103 

A Klondyker in Seattle 1 1 1 

Who Is to Blame ? 119 

A Chapter of Grievances 1 35 

July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison 143 

She Softened the Major 151 

White' Horse Rapids 157 

A Fragment of the Trip 171 

A Gambler 177 

Juggling in White Horse Rapids 193 

Was It a Dream ? 197 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 



Alice Rollins Crane {From photograph by W. H. St alee, 

Washington, D. C) Frontispiece 

PAGE 

The Honorable William Ogilvie 19 

William Galpin 50 

Played Out {From a photograph by E. A. Hegg) 7S 

The Man With the Fry Pai- .' 136 

Street in Dawson {From a photograph by E. A. Hegg) 144 
White Horse 'Rkp\v>^{Frotn a photographby E.A. Hegg) 158 
Porcupine Canyon — On the Way to the White Pass.. 171 



INTRODUCTION 



From a collection of stories told In the far away 
Klondyke by Klondykers I have culled these now 
presented to the reader. 

With the exception of that entitled "Was It a 
Dream?" which appeared originally in a local Daw- 
son paper, they are printed now for the first time 
and will, I trust, prove of more than ordinary in- 
terest to the reader. 

Of the authors of several of the tales a few words 
will not be out of place, and I take this opportunity 
of thanking them all most heartily for their re- 
spective contributions. 

The Honorable William Ogilvie, Commissioner 
of the Yukon Territory, was born at Ottawa in 
1846. He passed his examination as surveyor in 
1869, and for thirty years has worked for his Gov- 
ernment literally by night and day — for of the one 
hundred and twenty thousand miles he has travelled, 
many thousands have been accomplished under the 
star-lit heavens and the Northern Lights. He has 
made surveys of the mighty Athabasca, Peace, Yu- 



8 Introduction 

kon, Porcupine, Mackenzie and other rivers ; he has 
camped amid the loneHness of the far North-West 
and British Cokimbia. Among the honors that 
have been showered upon him was the bestowal of 
that coveted prize among explorers — the Murchi- 
son Medal of the Royal Geographical Society of 
Great Britain. He is popular among the miners 
of all nationalities in the Klondyke and his judg- 
ments are always noted for their justness. He 
has, moreover, studied the manners and customs 
of the Indians all over Canada and the North- 
West Territory, and was courteous enough to aid 
me materially in my efforts as Special Commis- 
sioner, to obtain data of the folklore and mythol- 
ogy of the Alaskan Indians for the Bureau of 
Ethnology of the Smithsonian Institute of Wash- 
ington. 

Captain William Galpin is one of Dawson's 
leading business men and promoters, able, as sev- 
eral stories will prove, to tell a tale when he has a 
mind to; a Klondyker to the backbone — genial, 
straightforward and daring. 

Mrs. Ella H. Cunningham is too well known to 
readers of our popular journals, magazines and 
other periodicals to need an introduction. A 
genuine Eastern woman of the true ring — refined, 
yet hating conventionalities, kind-hearted and 
generous, independent and brave, she was as well 
known in the Klondyke as she is in the outside 



Introduction 9 

world and endured the hardships and privations of 
northern Hfe along with the most robust of men. 

Of my other raconteurs I need only say that 
they "know whereof they write," and that to the 
pleasant companionship of one and all of them I owe 
the happiest hours of my sojourn in the "white 
country." 

It is my intention at a later period to publish a 
second series of these "Smiles and Tears," elab- 
orately illustrated by original views taken in the 
North-West. In that series the reader may once 
again be introduced to the tellers of these tales 
and to others, perhaps, besides. 

Alice Rollins Crane. 



THE TI-SUK 



A Legend of the Tin-Ji-Su Indians of the North-West 

WILLIAM OGILVIE 



The Ti-Suk 



A LEGEND OF THE TIN-JI-SU INDIANS OF THE NORTH- 
WEST 

WILLIAM OGLIVIE 

THE Ti-siik is a worm, or reptile, which is 
found in the lower Yukon country in dry, 
rocky places. When at rest it is about 
three inches long, but while travelling is supposed 
to stretch itself to twice that length. In appear- 
ance it resembles the centipede, being multi-leg- 
ged, and having long, curved antennae which, like 
those of the common snail, can be drawn into the 
head when trouble is anticipated. It differs from 
the centipede, however, in that its glossy body is 
marked alternately black and white, giving the 
thing a brilliant appearance and making it apt to 
appeal to the superstition of the natives. 

When one is found by the Indians inhabiting the 
bleak district stretching northward along the 
coast from St. Michaels, they immediately proceed 
to hedge it in with sticks, leaves and other matter, 
and offer it any pieces of colored cloth or ribbon 
they may possess, all the time invoking it not to be 



14 Smiles and Tears 

unkind to them or visit them or their relations witK 
bad luck. 

They are firmly of the belief that anyone encoun- 
tering it will be unfortunate in some way, either 
losing a relative by death in the near future, or by 
being subjected to some other grievous affliction, 
hence the invocation made to it. 

The origin of this belief is the following legend : 

In the past a worm of this kind lived on a high 
mountain on the coast, called by. the natives Kin- 
nigh-tuk, which means high steep cliff or rock. 
The son of the chief of the locality, while out 
hunting one day, found it, and being much pleased 
with its appearance sat down and began to fondle 
it, giving it to eat some of the most tender meat he 
had. 

Soon after he visited it again and fed it with 
more dainties. This continued until he became 
enamored of it and even neglected his house and 
friends to spend his time with it, hunting for and 
feeding it with the choicest game. 

On this course of diet it developed to large pro- 
portions, and the more it grew the more food it 
required, until at length an entire caribou barely 
sufficed to satisfy its greedy maw. 

Thus passed many moons through their succes- 
sive phases, thus swung the placid constellations 
around their lord, the eternal pole star, until the 
Ti-suk became exacting and intolerant, insisting 



The Ti-Suk 15 

that the young man devote himself entirely to it, 
always giving it his first attention. 

It grew as jealous as a love-hungry squaw, often 
following him over the ice fields and through 
gloomy forests, spying upon him to see that he did 
as it desired. 

When the young man went seal hunting or fish- 
ing it would await him on the beach, and no matter 
how tired or hungry the returned man might be he 
had to attend immediately to the Ti-suk's wants. 
When he became forgetful of these duties the Ti- 
suk would roar in a soul terrifying manner and 
would terrorize him with hostile demonstrations. 

Fain had the young man released himself 
from such subjection, but he dared not even at- 
tempt it. 

One day, when the forest was silent with the 
-weight of snow upon the shoulders of its trees, he 
went out hunting and travelled far before he saw any 
game. At length he came upon four caribou, which 
he killed, and being very tired and hungry he made a 
fire and proceeded to cook some of the meat for 
himself. 

But the Ti-suk had followed, and finding him thus 
engaged raised a terrible uproar, giving vent to its 
fury in tremendous roars and violent contortions 
of its body. In its_ passion it not only pulverized 
the rocks in the vicinity, but it also fell upon the 
terror-stricken chief and destroyed him. 



i6 Smiles and Tears 

Then, having in this way expended some of its 
rage, it made its way down the mountain side, 
ploughing the rock as it went and leaving a valley 
which has since been the bed of a tremendous 
creek. 

The Ti-suk made its way out of the country 
southward and has never been seen or heard of 
since in that part of the world, but the natives still 
have a dread of its kind. 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 



WILLIAM OGILVIE 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 

WILLIAM OGILVIE 

AT the confluence of the lower Yukon and 
a smaller stream yet unhonored with the 
dignity of a name, there was situated ages 
ago a large Indian camp, boasting two dance 
houses. In the camp dwelt an old man, the husband 
of two wives and the father of five sons, but a most 
unlucky hunter. 

One fine morning, before the world was snow- 
sheeted and while the birds were still coming up 
from the south lands, the old man took his bow 
and bone-tipped arrows, and his spear with the 
tuft of feathers at the end, and went forth to hunt, 
directing his steps toward the small stream above 
mentioned. All that day he hunted, and all the 
night, but although he saw many sea lions they 
eluded his arrows and his spear and his heart grew 
heavy within him. The next morning he gave up 
the hunt. 

On his way homeward he passed a village in 
which his mother had once dwelt. Tender and sad 
recollections overcame him and he sat down and 



20 Smiles and Tears 

wept. After a while, however, he reflected and 
reasoned thus within himself : 

"What is the use of weeping! My mother never 
cared for me much; she never petted me nor kept 
dainties for me as other mothers did for their 
boys!" 

He then got up and continued his way home- 
ward till he came to where high hills bordered the 
river. Passing these he came to a grove of birch 
trees, at sight of which he stopped suddenly. 

"I cannot go home empty-handed," he said, "I 
must take something or the young men will laugh 
at me. I will take home some birch bark that the 
women may exchange it for salmon or beads." 

So he cut a lot of the bark, made baskets of it, 
and placed the baskets in his canoe. Then, fearing 
the ridicule of the young men, he cut himself open 
and let his bowels out. Having bandaged himself 
he proceeded to wash and clean his entrails, which 
he found, to his great joy, were covered with fat 
in such large quantities that they filled two bas- 
kets. These he also placed in his canoe and again 
started homeward, singing a song in which he hon- 
ored his mother. For his heart was now light 
within him. 

When he arrived at his village the sons of his 
favorite wife met him on the beach and expressed 
great joy that he had secured such quantities of 
fat. The names of these three young men were 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 21 

''Crow's Wing," "Nigger Head" (Haugh-tin) and 
"Holding His Arm," The names of his other 
sons are unknown, neitlier do they nor his other 
wife figure in the story. 

The old man greeted his sons affectionately and 
bade them go and bid their mother dress herself 
and meet him; he also bade them tell their grand-^ 
mother don all her finery and then help the mother 
cook, for he wished to give a great feast, consist- 
ing of meat and fish eggs, at his house to the people 
of the village. 

Then the old man unloaded his canoe, went up 
to the dance, or assembly house, and, having gath- 
ered the people around him, proceeded to tell them 
what a successful hunt he had had, how he had 
killed two caribou, but that they had rolled down 
into a snowdrift and that he had lost them. He 
then told them how he had fastened his knife to 
the end of a dry willow, and, after much difficulty, 
had succeeded in cutting them open and abstracting 
the fat from their bodies. 

While the young men were regretting they had 
not been with him to help secure the meat, his fa- 
vorite wife entered with a large dish of the fat; 
this he distributed among the people in the assembly 
house, bidding his wife reserve the eggs for their 
own needs. 

While the distribution was progressing several 
of the people remarked that the fat had a peculiar 



22 Smiles and Tears 

odor, but the old man looked darkly at thiem and 
said it was only a matter of imagination. 

His wife then led him home. 

Presently the old grandmother entered and 
commenced serving the meal. To do this the more 
easily she removed the buckskin mitten from her 
left hand and threw it on the ground. The old 
man commenced swallowing the soup greedily 
until he discovered that the bandages around his 
belly were bursting from the pressure put upon 
them; he therefore hastily picked up the mitten, 
placed it inside the bandages to strengthen them 
and resumed his meal. 

But when the grandmother missed the mitten 
there was trouble in the hut. Search was made for 
it everywhere and finally the keen eyed Crow's 
Wing saw a part of it projecting from beneath 
the bandage encircling his father's belly. Think- 
ing to play a joke upon the old man he jerked the 
mitten away. Instantaneously water flowed from 
the wound in such quantities that the hut, the vil- 
lage and the whole country was inundated. 

And the great waters forced themselves into the 
bodies of all men and women so that they became 
dead — all save Crow's Wing, who had jumped into 
a huge wooden dish and was thus enabled to save 
his life. 

For six days Crow's Wing floated in his wooden 
dish and then the waters began to subside. During 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 23 

that time nothing was visible save turbulent waters 
and the threatening sky above him. On the seventh 
day the flood subsided and then Crow's Wing 
landed close to his former home and proceeded to 
look for the bodies of his relations. But the great 
waters had swept them away and there remained 
no sign of them. 

Feeling very hungry he searched for something 
to eat, walking along the beach in a northerly di- 
rection, and presently found some fish eggs of which 
he partook ; then he reached the bed of an old river 
and there he found some small dead fish, with which 
he satisfied his immediate hunger. 

He continued walking in a northerly direction for 
five days until, when nearly dead with exhaustion, 
he saw smoke rising in the distance and directed 
his steps thereto. After a day's journeying he ar- 
rived at a neat cabin with several caches around it, 
the door of which w^as ornamented with beads of 
many colors. Opening the outer, or porch door, he 
entered the cabin and found therein a very handsome 
woman, stout and large limbed, and apparently forty- 
five years old. Her nose was ornamented with blue 
beads, hanging suspended from her nostrils; her 
swart hair was parted in the middle and ornamented 
with beads on each side; the sleeves of her loose 
gown were rolled up and her wrists and arms were 
bound with copper and heavy brass bracelets. 

When she saw Crow's Wing she was overjoyed, 
and exclaimed: 



24 Smiles and Tears 

"OH, you beautiful youth, where did you come 
from?'' 

This kindness affected the young man so deeply 
that he burst into tears. Then she tenderly enquired 
of him what his troubles were, and when he had 
satisfied his hunger and recovered somewhat, he re- 
lated to her all that had happened to him during the 
past few weeks. She expressed her sympathy for 
him, told him she was all alone in the world, and that 
he must remain with her. 

Later in the day she went forth to hunt, first cau-, 
tioning the young man that he must by no means fol- 
low her. He therefore remained in the cabin while 
she visited her hunting grounds. 

Late in the evening the woman returned, heavily 
laden with walrus meat. Going to one of her 
caches she took therefrom many delicacies, fur 
blankets, parkeys and reindeer skin boots. These 
last she bestowed upon her guest; then she heated 
water for him to wash with and arranged a bed of 
the blankets for him to sleep on at night. Whea 
he was clean, and had dressed himself in his new 
clothes, he threw his soiled garments away and then 
the two sat down to partake of a meal. 

With this woman Crow's Wing remained many 
months, during which time she taught him how and. 
where to hunt and many other things, such as the 
curing of skins and the making of deadly spears. 

One morning the young man wished to accompany 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 25 

her upon the hunt but she bade him remain at home 
and prepare a meal against her return. All day he 
waited for her and then, growing anxiqus, he fol- 
lowed her tracks until he came to a high mountain, 
sloping abruptly down to the sea. At the foot of 
this mountain, close to the beach, were several large 
rocks and there the tracks ceased suddenly. Then 
Crow's Wing, who had learned her methods, divined 
that she had used these rocks as a place of conceal- 
ment ; that she had wound her spear line around one 
of them, had speared a huge walrus and by it been 
dragged, along with the rock on which she lay, into 
the very depths of the sea. 

Hastening home, he took from one of the caches 
a large ivory spear to which was attached an extra 
length of walrus line. He then cut down a small 
tree, which he set up where once the rock had been, 
and used it as a snubbing post, attaching to it the end 
of his line. Then he concealed himself behind a 
small rock and was very still. 

For several days he continued the hunt. On the 
fifth he was rewarded by spearing a huge walrus, 
and, the snubbing post having bitten well into the 
beach, was enabled by degrees and after much diffi- 
culty to haul it in and skin it. 

Upon opening the stomach he found it contained 
the bones of a human body. Washing them care- 
fully, he carried them to his hut; then he spread 
them upon a new caribou skin and put the skeleton 



26 Smiles and Tears 

together. When this task was completed he found 
he had everything but the bones of the httle finger of 
the right hand, and, being desirous of replacing it, 
he trimmed a piece of wood with his teeth and laid 
it with the other bones. 

It turned out, however, to be a poor piece of work- 
manship, and that is the reason why our little fingers 
are crooked. 

Then he brought fresh water and sprinkled the 
joints, taking the caribou skin and covering them 
with it. Then he walked around the skeleton, fol- 
lowing the course of the sun, and sprinkling the robe 
the while. Presently it began to move. Five times 
he walked around it and five times it trembled. 
Then he threw the flaps of the skin aside and found 
the woman inside, regenerated and more beautiful. 

Great was his surprise and he could only ejacu- 
late, "Dear aunt!" 

The woman turned her face from him. 

He exclaimed, "Dear cousin!" 

Again the woman turned from him. 

He tried, "Dear mother !" 

But the woman only frowned at him, for she was 
both young and beautiful. 

The young man considered and finally exclaimed, 
"Dear wife!" 

And then the woman leaped to him and embraced 
him, and they were both very happy. 

Later on she told him there was only one thing 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 27 

she wanted him to observe when he went out hunting 
and that was to be sure and kill no female seals. 

Crow's Wing asked the woman how he could 
avoid making this mistake, but she, with woman's 
reason, only reiterated, "Don't!" 

For many years Crow's Wing and the woman 
lived happily together and whenever he returned 
from the hunt she met him on the beach and exam- 
ined his kill. 

Many caribou likewise fell before his arrows, and 
finally, although his wife was better to him than any 
other woman could have been, he was watched by 
her. Wearied of the restraint she put upon him he 
determined to thwart her and, come what might of it, 
to kill a female seal. 

So he built him a light, swift kayak, for the fe- 
male seals are swift swimmers, and when his wife 
asked him why he built such a light kayak he merely 
replied : 

"Because I wish a light kayak." 

When the kayak was completed Ke prepared for 
the hunt and, not knowing what would happen, he 
placed in it two extra parkeys, two extra pairs of 
light boots and two extra pairs of mittens and put 
forth to sea. Many seals he killed that day, putting 
their meat in his kayak, and finally he killed a fe- 
male, which he placed on top of the meat. Then 
he returned home and unloaded everything before 
his wife came down to meet him. 



28 Smiles and Tears 

Anticipating trouble he left the kayak so that he 
could jump into it quickly, placing his two double 
and three single paddles close to his hand. Then, 
as his wife was not to be seen, he went up to the 
house for his favorite knife and, looking down to the 
beach, saw the woman hastening toward him, 
screaming horribly. 

He hid himself in the outer porch of the house 
but she saw him and screamed : 

"I told you not to kill my female seals! I told 
you not to kill my female seals!" 

Then Crow's Wing saw that she was dangerous, 
so he fled to his kayak, jumped into it and put forth 
to sea, paddling for dear life. When he was some 
distance from the shore he looked back and saw his 
hut was in flames. He also heard his wife scream- 
ing: 

"I thought so; I thought he would do it in spite 
of the warning I gave him !" 

Suddenly he became aware of the woman, wrapt 
in a mantle of fire, swimming after him. He put 
forth all his strength to elude her, but day and night 
she followed him, burning like a mountain, and all 
the water around her seemed aflame. 

When she neared him, he threw a piece of meat to 
her, but she shrieked back : 

"Do not think to elude me, for I will follow you 
and kill you." 

She then sank beneath the waves, but came up 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 29 

again nearer than ever and blazing as before. 
Again he cast meat to her and again she sank, and 
when he had nothing more to throw out of the kayak 
a great fear came over him for still she followed 
him, fierce and fiery. 

When almost exhausted he managed to reach the 
land and, jumping out of his kayak, threw his mits 
at the woman, but she gobbled them up and con- 
tinued the chase, screaming: 

"I told you not to kill my female seals! I told 
you not to kill my female seals !" 

When she saw him getting out of his kayak she 
screamed : 

"I will catch you yet; you cannot escape me!" 

While she was yet swimming, he threw the kayak 
at her and endeavored to crawl up the bank, but was 
stiff and tired. Thus the fiery fury behind him was 
enabled to decrease the distance between them. See- 
ing this, fear gave the pursued man fresh strength 
and when he reached the top of the bank he perceived 
in the distance a cabin, from the roof of which smoke 
issued. 

Dragging himself toward it he entered and found 
two old women within, who were much frightened 
at his abrupt appearance and asked him why he was 
so pale. He told them he was trying to escape from 
a fire which pursued him. Hastily they gave him 
some dried fish and then pointed out to him a path 
by which he might escape to the mountains. 



30 Smiles and Tears 

.With fear still impelling him onward he left them, 
hearing behind him the screams of his wife, the 
smoke of her hot breath almost overpowering him. 
He crossed two high mountains, the dry fish and the 
fear in his heart giving him strength. Then he saw 
another cabin and, hearing his wife still screaming 
behind him, he rushed into it and found two old 
women similar to the occupants of the first cabin. 

They asked him where he came from and what 
was the matter, and he again replied that he was 
pursued by a fire from which he was trying to es- 
cape. They likewise gave him some dried fish and 
directed him to a path by which he could reach a 
place of safety, and also told him to pass three hills, 
when from the fourth he would see a cabin situated 
in an almost inaccessible place, at the door of which 
two brown bears kept watch by night and day ; that 
his approach would be made known by two cranes, 
and that he must give the bears whatever he had in 
his hand. 

Hearing the voice of the woman Crow's Wing fled 
onward and, when he came to the cabin with the 
bears in front of it he threw them some dried fish and 
darted inside, calling for aid. Then he fainted from 
exhaustion. 

In the cabin there was a young woman, and she 
called to her father to help restore the stranger to 
consciousness. While they were doing this the flam- 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 31 

ing woman approached the house, but the bears 
seized her and devoured her piecemeal. 

When Crow's Wing recovered consciousness he 
found himself in a large cabin, lying on a soft bed of 
moose skins. At his side were the young woman 
and her two parents. They nursed him tenderly, 
bathed him and gave him clean garments and threw 
away the old ones. 

For four days the old man kept him, and when he 
was recovered said to him : 

"My son, do you suppose your troubles are now 
over?" 

The young man moodily nodded his head. 

"Well," continued the father, "you are not 
through with them yet. Across the point from 
here there is a great chief, who is a bad man but has 
a very beautiful daughter. When a young man 
wishes to marry her he permits it, but finally kills 
his son-in-law. If the young man is handsome 
he permits them to live together for five days ; if the 
young man is not good looking he is killed after 
the third day. The daughter will come to visit me 
to-day ; she will see you and you will have to marry 
her." 

"Is there no escape?" the young man asked. 

"No," replied the father, "you will have to go, for 
he is a very powerful chief. Moreover, he is very 
jealous of me and, knowing that you are here, he will 
send her after you and you will have to marry her." 



32 Smiles and Tears 

The evening came and with it the chief's daughter. 
When Crow's Wing saw her he could not help ad- 
miring her. She was ornamented with beautiful 
beads, one of a rare blue color being suspended from 
her nose. 

After she had been seated some little time she 
looked upon the young man and said : 

"Father has sent me after you; you must come 
with me." 

But Crow's Wing shook his head. 

"No, no," he replied. "I do not have to go. I 
am weary after my long journey. I cannot go to- 
night." 

Then the chief's daughter went back to her father. 

"It is useless," said the old man to Crow's Wing, 
when she had left the cabin. "She will be sent back 
for you. You will have to go this very night. But 
I will give you some advice which may save you. 
Of course, he will not try to kill you until the five 
days are up. Then you must be watchful. Do not 
sleep. Remove the bead from your wife's nose, cut 
off her hair, and when she is fast asleep change 
places with her, put her hair on your head and put 
her nose bead on your nose. The chief will come in 
when it is dark and will kill his daughter. Then 
you must jump up and run here as quickly as you 
can. We will be on the watch for you and will do 
our best to help you." 

Later in the evening the chief's daughter returned 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 33 

and Crow's Wing dressed himself in his best clothes 
and followed her to her own village. 

When the young woman had looked well upon 
him she saw that he was comely and her heart went 
out unto him and she told him that never had she 
loved a young man as she did him. 

"I feel sorry for you," said she, "and must tell you 
that my father is a very bad man. He kills every- 
body with whom I keep company. On the fifth day 
of our marriage he will kill you, despite the fact that 
I love you." 

Then Crow's Wing was sorry for her, for she was 
a beautiful woman and he knew she would be killed 
in his place. 

When they arrived at the village they were given 
a great reception, receiving rich gifts of furs and 
meat, and ivory, and fat and beads. 

For four days they lived together very happily and 
on the fifth day Crow's Wing was very careful. 
Late in the evening the young couple retired, but 
when his wife was fast asleep he dressed himself 
again. Then he cut off her hair, removed the bead 
from her nose and placed her on his side of the bed. 
When this was done he laid himself down in her 
place and pretended to sleep. 

Early in the morning he heard the wicked old 
chief telling his wife he was going to kill the new 
son-in-law. The woman begged him to desist. 

"You have had plenty to eat," said she, "and our 



34 Smiles and Tears 

cache is full of caribou and walrus meat. The 
young couple are happy. Why kill him ?" 

But the chief bade her mind her own business and 
then went to that part of the cabin where the young 
people were lying. 

Crow's Wing saw the old man coming, a sharp 
knife glittering in his hand. When he approached 
the bed he drew his hand gently across the two faces 
and finding, as he believed, the son-in-law, he drew 
the knife across his throat and cut off the head. 
Then he grunted with satisfaction. 

"Jwmp up, daughter," said he, "jump up and get 
me a dish that I may save the blood." 

Crow's Wing jumped out of bed and rushed 
from the dark cabin toward the home of his friends, 
calling loudly for help as he went. 

Soon after his escape the wicked chief put a stick 
in the smoldering embers and lit the cabin. When 
he saw whom he had killed he was exceeding wroth 
and without loss of time started in pursuit of Crow's 
Wing, who was becoming fatigued. 

The chief cursed Crow's Wing's feet and legs with 
such effect that he lost control of them and fell over ; 
then he dragged himself forward on his elbows, but 
again the chief cursed him and he lay motionless 
on the snow. 

All this while he had been calling loudly and pite- 
ously for help, and just as the chief was about 
to pounce upon him the young woman who had be- 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 35 

friended him before appeared on the scene with a 
sleigh. She helped him into it and drove him to her 
cabin and laid him on a soft bed. Her father then 
told her to let loose the two brown bears and close 
the windows and the doors. 

A few minutes later the chief arrived, but the 
bears were hungry and they fell on him and de- 
voured him. 

Then the wife of the wicked chief arrived, but the 
two bears made short work of her. For several 
days the other members of his family came, one after 
another, and were all devoured. 

Then the doors and the windows of the cabin 
were opened. Crow's Wing was given a fresh bath, 
attired in clean raiment, and soon became strong 
again. 

The old man told him that his troubles were now 
probably over, so Crow's Wing took his bow and ar- 
rows and went forth to hunt, bringing in much meat 
to the cache, and many skins and furs. 

He fell in love with the old man's daughter, who 
had twice saved his life, and one evening he asked 
the old man for her. 

"Mv son," said he, "you are both comely and 
brave and I should like to have you for a son-in-law. 
The girl has never been in love yet and if you can 
win her you may have her." 

So Crow's Wing made himself agreeable to the 
young woman, told her he loved her and won her. 



36 Smiles and Tears 

They were married and lived very happily for a year. 

During the summer season while he was out hunt- 
ing he often saw a man watching him, but who 
always disappeared when approached. Crow's 
Wing told his wife about the strange occurrence and 
asked her what it meant. 

"Do not be afraid of him," she said. "Two 
brothers, men from over the mountains, live over 
there and he is one of them. The next time you see 
him, call to him and go straight to him. We had 
better become friends." 

The next time Crow's Wing went out he saw the 
strange man and went up to him. The man threw 
himself down on the ground, but Crow's Wing 
asked him why he was afraid. 

"I am very lonesome here," answered the strange 
man. "There are no young men to associate with. 
Come with me. I have killed a caribou. Come to 
my cabin to-night." 

But Crow's Wing was afraid. 

"No, no," said he. "Come to my cabin !" 

But the strange man shook his head. 

"I cannot come," he replied. "I have never been 
away from my cabin for a whole night. I cannot 
leave." 

"You must come with me to-night," said Crow's 
Wing, "and the next time I will go with you. I also 
have much meat in my cache. Come and partake of 
it." 



The Flood Around Koyekuk 37 

So they went together to Crow's Wing's home, 
the old man being much ashamed as they neared the 
place. 

He remained over night with them. Next morn- 
ing Crow's Wing consulted with his wife and said 
that as the stranger had come to their cabin he must 
now go to his. The wife told him to go and fear 
nothing. 

So Crow's Wing went to the stranger's cabin and 
the men finally became great friends; they visited 
each other regularly, and gave great feasts, until 
the members of each family knew one another in- 
timately. 

And this intimacy still exists. 



"Quare" Cases 



WILLIAM OGILVIE 



'Quare" Cases 

WILLIAM OGLIVIE 

1WAS sitting on a log one evening, laying out a 
program of work; a few yards from me the 
mighty Yukon rolled placidly toward the sea, 
distant more than fifteen hundred miles. The 
waters near by along the shore were disturbed by 
the poles of four stalwart men, who were propelling 
a boat up stream to the trading post at Forty Mile, 
then just becoming a town and destined to be for 
several years the principal one along the river. 

'As soon as they saw men at work the desire to 
"swap ideas" was too much for them. The four 
travellers beached their boat, came up the bank and 
exchanged salutations with me. The work in hand 
requiring my close attention for some time I held no 
conversation with them, so three of the men, perceiv- 
ing my attention to be riveted on my task, went over 
to where my party were at work building our winter 
quarters. 

The fourth man I Had noticed while greeting him 
was a tall, uncouth' fellow, wearing an old battered 
hat, frayed and dirty, the band of which had been re- 



42 Smiles and Tears 

placed by a frayed rope, which passed in and out 
through slits made just above the rim. Thrust 
through one of these loops, between the rope and the 
hat itself, was an old, much used pipe. This typi- 
cal head gear covered a mass of red matted curls 
which evidently had not been intimate with comb or 
brush for many weeks. The curls covered a well 
formed head, and lay unevenly around a fine brow, 
under which beamed two large, blue eyes which be- 
spoke a frank, honest mind behind. The jaw and 
mouth were covered with a red beard, the hue of 
which was much clouded by deposits of the Yukon 
sands and clay. Had the man been dudish the head 
could by care and cleanliness have been rendered 
handsome. Even as it was the face begrimed with 
dirt, (the result of the application of hands at one 
time covered with the mud of the Yukon, at 
another with the grease from his cooking uten- 
sils, and anon with the flour and water 
which formed his daily bread), was far from 
repulsive. This soiled head was set on a long, slen- 
der neck, which was completely bare, save for the all- 
pervading grimy dirt. His body was scantily cov- 
ered with a coarse, blue flannel shirt, the collar of 
which would not button around the neck, and was 
held as closely as possible to it by a piece of stout 
cord, passed through the button hole on one side and 
a slit made by a knife-blade on the other. The 
sleeves were much too short for the long, muscular 



"Quare" Cases 43 

arms, and the buttons on both wrists were gone, but 
the left was held close to the wrist by a piece of the 
same cord that fastened the collar. The right sleeve 
was untied, and was ripped up to the armpit, which 
allowed it to generally hang loose and wing-like 
down the side. A pair of blue jeans pants served 
to cover the lower part of the body, and part of the 
long, sinewy legs. When standing, the ankle was 
not covered by them, and, when sitting, part of the 
leg was bare too. On the long feet were a pair of 
low, coarse shoes, between which and the feet was a 
pair of cheap blue cotton stockings, much too attenu- 
ated to stand up round the ankle and leg they were 
intended to cover, and which lay in ignominious con- 
cealment in the mouth of the large, coarse shoe. 

I only cast a glance at this strange conglomera- 
tion, but its unusual individuality so impressed me 
that, although it is nearly twelVe years ago since I 
saw the tout ensemble, I have not noted any decrease 
of intensity in the imprint on my gray matter, or 
whatever it may be holds those perceptions. 

Noticing that I was occupied the man sat down 
on a log, threw one of his long legs over the other, 
uncovering as he did so, more of the upper one than 
would be considered proper in polite society, reached 
for his old pipe and proceeded to charge it with a 
good long smoke. This I perceived, though I was 
not looking at him, by that sense of vision which en- 
ables us to see sideways what is not the subject of 



44 Smiles and Tears 

our view. The pipe charged, it was lit, and the 
smoker was soon in that cloud-land, physically and 
mentally, which seems to be the desire of all votaries 
of the weed. 

My program finished, I sighed in sympathy with 
the vast solitude around me, broken only by the 
labors of my men, then looked up at the man in 
the cloud. Perceiving this, he extended the long, 
bare right arm and with a wave parted the cloud ; at 
the same time he took the pipe from his mouth with 
the left hand, and in a deep seated, rich Irish voice 
said: 

"Did you run lines at Lot No. 3, in the fourth 
concession of the township of Cumberland, in 1871 ?" 

Sixteen years had elapsed since that time, but I 
recognized the voice as that of one of my earliest 
clients professionally. 

"Yes," I replied, "and I ran them for J— T ." 

Locally he had been known as Long John, and but 
few knew him by any other appellation. 

Instantly he was on his feet. With both hands 
extended he approached me saying, as he came: 

"I thought so! I thought so! How in are 

yer? I heard there was a man of yer name comin' 
down the river, but I niver thought it was you, by 

. Ye wur only a boy whin I knew ye and I niver 

thought ye would be runnin' loines between two 
countries." Then a running fire of questions was 
kept up, all in an inimitable rich Irish brogue and ac- 



"Quare" Cases 45 

cent, so intoned and accentuated that, without the 
least bit of consciousness on the speaker's part that 
it was so, the effect was extremely comical and laugh- 
able. 

Soon after my party and the other three travellers 
joined us, supper was prepared, and during the meal 
peal after peal, or rather roar after roar, of laughter 
followed "Long John's" queer, comical remarks and 
questions. 

He had left his home in Canada sixteen years be- 
fore, through a cause which was creditable to his 
heart. His only sister had died quite unexpectedly 
and the loss so affected him that he sought solace 
in banishment. 

The conversation — principally sustained by Long 
John — was carried on far into the night, — the fire 
fromtime to time being replenished as was necessary, 
for the evening, though beautifully clear and starry, 
was somewhat chilly. 

John monopolized one side of it himself, and when 
it burned low and fitfully, now glowing brightly, 
now sinking into darkness, the effect was indescrib- 
able. Often as he spoke, to emphasize some re- 
mark, he would extend his right arm, always saying 
as he did so, "Now I tell ye, boys." As the arm 
came out the open sleeve would fall off it, when in- 
stantly he would jerk it into place with his left hand, 
remarking sotto voce as he did so, " that shirt !" 

I cannot say how many times this occurred, but 



46 Smiles and Tears 

every time it did a roar of laughter followed, which 
did not seem to affect John in the least. At length, 
after about five hours' almost ceaseless questioning 
and narrative, he seemed exhausted, and devoted all 
his energies to smoking, and as we caught occasional 
dim glimpses of him through the red glimmer of the 
low fire, he seemed like some strange nondescript be- 
ing from another planet, or one of the rigid men of 
the stone age, as we might imagine them to be. 

The silence was profound. He seemed wrapped 
in contemplation, and we devoted all our energies 
to seeing as much of him as the flickering fire would 
permit. I do not know that any one of us wondered 
what he was thinking about, but I do know that we 
were all waiting to laugh uproariously at whatever 
he would say. 

After about ten minutes of the most solemn si- 
lence, he calmly removed his pipe from his lips, ex- 
tended his right hand in the profoundest manner, 
almost extinguished the fire with an accumulation of 
saliva, and remarked in tones of absolute sincerity 
and conviction : 

"I tell ye, boys, when a man travels he meets some 
Square cases.' I'll be if he doesn't' 

I have some times wondered if the roar that fol- 
lowed was not heard in the civilized world, and 
noted by scientists as an earthquake or some other 
phenomenon. At any rate John never saw the 
"quare case" as we did. 



N. W. M. P, 

WILLIAM GALPIN 



N. W. M. P. 

WILLIAM GALPIN 

IT was during the Autumn of '97 that the 
Klondyke found its way into most of the news- 
papers of England. The reports were so gar- 
bled, so exaggerated, so like fairy stories, that one 
could make but little out of them, except that if one 
could only reach the land of promise alive, and keep 
alive just a few months, he could return a million- 
aire. 

There were two drawbacks upon which all seemed 
with common consent to agree, namely, the inhos- 
pitable climate and the more inhospitable people. 

Against the former everybody appeared well 
equipped, with outfits sufficient to keep them warm 
at the North Pole; and against the latter even 
women as well as men were equally well prepared 
with firearms and ammunition sufficient to shoot all 
the inhabitants, human or brutal, in the whole 
Dominion of Canada. 

Every one seemed to believe that the Klondyke 
was held by Indians and man-eating miners, who had 
to be put down with the aid of a Colt, Wesson, or 



50 Smiles and Tears 

Webley; hence it was a common sight to see men 
armed to the teeth, with cartridge belt well filled, a 
revolver which had never been fired (and never 
would be), or one which had done good service in 
old mining camps by its threatening length, suggest- 
ing its use as a club to kill the mythical deer and 
duck (which they never saw). 

Perhaps there never was a town so well supplied 
with ammunition as Dawson was in '98, for very 
few had an opportunity of using their guns on the 
frequented trail and the misguided prospectors who 
had taken the easy ( !) Edmonton and other over- 
land routes did not arrive in Dawson that year ! 

To-day it is one of the sights to walk through a 
secondhand store and note the array of Winches- 
ters, Marlins, Remingtons, Colts, and Wessons ac- 
companied by hundreds of thousands of cartridges, 
all for sale at ridiculously low prices. There they 
lie; the big fires devoured many thousand rounds, 
much to the consternation of bystanders ; and there 
they are likely to remain, for there never was a min- 
ing camp where firearms were so utterly useless. 
The four letters at the heading of this article were 
unknown to the cheecharkos (new comers) who 
imagined that they were coming to a land where 
might was right and the gun would be useful as a 
"bluff." 

Never was there a more peaceable community 
than Dawson can boast of. 



N. W. M. P. 51 

This is greatly due to the North-West Mounted 
Police, a fine body of men whom all nationalities 
respect; from Colonel Steel down to the humble 
private there is not a man who shirks his arduous 
duty. Highly do the Dawsonites appreciate the 
services of these brave fellows, though they are 
somewhat puzzled to understand why men can volun- 
teer for duty in a land so far from civilization, 
with no chance nozv of acquiring a foot of mining 
property, where strict military discipline is rigor- 
ously maintained and most severe punishment in- 
flicted for offences apparently trivial in the eyes of 
civilians. 

These men are stalwart sons of the British nation, 
imbued with John Bull's characteristics, exhibiting 
in a remarkable degree doggedness of determination, 
bravery, indomitable perseverance, and an almost 
blind obedience to duty, and, though usually stern 
and abrupt, yet men with hearts full of sympathy 
for any one in actual distress. 

They are noted for their strict impartiality, moral- 
ity, bright and soldierly appearance, and their con- 
tempt for bribery or corruption. 

In the barrack room, off duty, he is as full of fun 
as a Jack Tar and as much imbued with an esprit 
de corps as any graduate of a crack University. 

During the winter of '98-'99, these men proved 
themselves giants of endurance on the trail, when 
they earned the gratitude of thousands by their 



52 Smiles and Tears 

plucky journeys with mail over the six hundred miles 
of ice and snow which separated Dawson from the 
"outside." They often travelled fifty miles a day 
in a temperature from 40° to 50° below zero, and 
sometimes rescued the mailbags from the river at 
the risk of their own lives. 

With all their fine physique, I am sorry to say 
there is a modest little plot of ground over the hill at 
the back of Dawson, which comrades will recall 
with moistened eyes, and where too often have been 
heard the three sharp volleys and the last bugle calls 
which honor the obsequies of a soldier who has died 
in harness. 

Feeling greatly interested in these men, soon after 
arriving in Dawson, I took some interest in noticing 
how untiringly they performed their multifarious 
duties. I wonder what some of our home police 
would think if they were told off to carry out the fol- 
lowing orders ! And how many Hindoos would be 
required, where it is an insult to one of these dusky 
warriors to suggest that he should combine two 
offices in one ! 

In a conversation one day at the barracks with a 
popular officer, he did not surprise me by saying that 
to be an efficient member of the N. W. M. P., a man 
must play many parts. 

He must be at various times a tinsmith, baker, sad- 
dler, provost, herder, stoker, dog driver, trail maker, 
soldier, cavalryman, harness maker, mail carrier. 



N. W. M. P. 53 

postmaster, carpenter, house builder, painter, gar- 
dener, woodsman, hunter, cook, laundryman, tailor, 
water carrier, fireman, boat builder, blacksmith, 
fisherman, wagoner, magistrate, boxer, coroner, 
hangman, grave digger, dog catcher, doctor, cus- 
toms officer, convoy, arbitrator, marksman, swords- 
man, clerk, sanitary inspector, mining recorder, 
royalty collector — I do not know how much further 
my friend would have gone, for just then we were in- 
terrupted by a visitor who called to remind him that 
he, as sheriff, was wanted to make out the necessary 
orders to an auctioneer for the sale of a mongrel lot 
of vagrant dogs which had been tied up in the bar- 
rack yard for several days and nights, and by their 
most hideous wailings and total disregard for the 
feelings of men who had to find time, however diffi- 
cult, in which to seek well-earned repose, had kept 
the police in a state bordering on sweardom. 

"Something attempted — something done — 
Has earned a night's repose." 

Truly, the lines may be applied to the men of the 
N. W. M. P. 

This article cannot be concluded without draw- 
ing attention to the many acts of bravery performed 
by these quasi cavalrymen. 

The records show how many a man has nobly died 
rescuing a wounded comrade from Indians, who 



54 Smiles and Tears 

cruelly mutilate the unhappy victims who fall into 
their clutches; many have met death while coolly 
taking, single-handed, a prisoner from amongst a 
hostile tribe; others have perished during storms 
while on duty on the trackless wilds; and while 
many an act could be quoted as richly deserving the 
Victoria Cross, it is a fact that the powers that be 
have declined to grant medals to men who have 
fought with bravery surpassed by none recited either 
in ancient or modern history. 

The whole force is governed from Regina as a 
regiment of regulars is from the War Office, and the 
discipline is just as severe as that obtaining in any 
favorite regiment. 

Then their horses! Those who have seen them 
have been struck with their beauty, their fleetness 
and their intelligence ; the men are justly proud of 
them and can follow any single horse's history by 
referring to the elaborately kept records of each 
horse's biography. 

Next to the commissioned officers in Dawson the 
greatest favorite with the force and the citizens is 
Sergt. Major Tucker, a man who has seen much 
service and who is the very essence of "a soldier and 
a man." 

It is because the government has sent such as these 
to Dawson that the town is to-day one of the quietest 
and best governed communities in the whole world. 



She Is Dead 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



She Is Dead 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

HIGH above the Richardson home, a high, 
dark mountain rose threateningly. Its 
shadow lay over all the little city of Daw- 
son, for this ominous looking gigantic wall which 
nature had formed extended from north to south 
along the whole of the eastern outskirts of that 
strange, far-off mining camp. It seemed to hang 
over the cabins like a cloud on most days, while 
directly opposite, across the fretful Yukon river, 
stood a little hamlet where the more fortunate in- 
habitants could see the cheery face of the sun while 
their neighbors were in gloom. 

Fever and scurvy were in the air, threatening to 
take possession of all sorts and conditions of men. 
They might be walking along the rough streets to- 
day and to-morrow be raving with delirium, many 
of them uncared for and left to die. The shadows 
of approaching trouble showed in each suffering, 
anxious human eye and all men spoke fearfully of 
death. 

The dwelling houses in Dawson were mostly rude 
log cabins, rising hardly high enough to cast a 



58 Smiles and Tears 

shadow ; they were mere shelters from a biting and 
aggressive cold. No one seemed to build one of 
these cabins as a permanent residence, only to use 
like birds use their nests, as a place of refuge to be 
soon deserted. When you entered one of them it 
necessitated a stooping posture, for if one did not 
bend almost double his head would suffer severely. 
When inside, nothing could be seen without a candle 
or lamp during the greater part of the year, partly 
owing to the gloomy shadow cast by the above-men- 
tioned mountain, partly because of the scarcity of 
jglass and its enormous price. Many an honest 
miner had to make use of bottles for windows, 
though the well-to-do might afford a single pane 
measuring about two feet square. 

Fever and famine hung forebodingly over the 
camp. 

It was on a sharp cold day with the thermometer 
standing at forty below zero that I chanced to be 
passing one of these dreary looking cabins, situated 
rather more in the mountain's shadow than most 
others. I stooped to tie my moosehide laces round 
the moccasins I was wearing, for they had become 
loose and annoyed me by dangling round my feet in 
the deep dry snow. I was about to proceed on my 
way when from the above-mentioned cabin a voice 
attracted my attention, causing me to turn my head 
quickly and look back over the dozen or so yards I 
had travelled past the low door. Just outside it 



She Is Dead 59 

■was standing a man, or, rather, a boy. His tall, 
lean figure and smooth boyish face seemed familiar 
to me; his lips were trembling, his downcast blue 
eyes were full of sorrow, and his form betrayed a 
dejection so great, that without further comment I 
retraced my steps to where he stood. 

"I beg pardon ?" said I politely, and with marked 
sympathy in my voice. 

"Might I ask," said he in a half bashful tone, 
tinged with sorrow, "if you are an American 
woman?" 

"Yes, I am," I answered. 

His pale face lighted up perceptibly as he appeared 
to recognize me as having given him some little as- 
sistance while on the trail, for he said hesitatingly, 
while tears trembled on his dark lashes : 

"I thought you would not mind doing me a kind- 
ness, for ladies are few in this country and I am 
in great trouble. I want you, please, to come inside 
for a few minutes. Oh, I need your help so much !" 

I saw the poor young fellow was heart-broken as 
he motioned me to follow him. This I had already 
begun to do, declaring my desire to alleviate his dis- 
tress in any way in my power. I followed him into 
the dimly lighted room ; it was furnished in the most 
meager fashion ; the roughly-boarded floor made of 
hewn logs had a cold hard look, so had even the rusty 
Yukon stove in the further corner. 

As I passed further into the cabin, and my eyes 



6o Smiles and Tears 

became accustomed to the gloom I was lost in as- 
tonishment. While his hand pointed like that of a 
spectre to the low bed before us my gaze followed its 
direction and I beheld, stretched out with white face, 
a girlish form. Then suddenly he found his voice 
and sobbingly said : 

"She is dead ! My wife — my baby!" 

With a heart overflowing with wondering pity at 
his words I looked at him again, then at the white, 
silent, little woman, so cold and peaceful on the bed. 
At that moment I heard the faint, plaintive cry of a 
child from somewhere near. Surely it was a baby's 
cry. I rubbed my eyes and looked and looked again. 

Yes ! there it was, a wee, new little mite lying on 
its dead mother's breast, one of whose arms was 
placed protectingly round its swaddled body. The 
boy husband stood silently by, waiting for me to re- 
cover from my astonishment and speak. His hope- 
less, helpless silence was more impressive than if he 
had cried loudly in his agony. He watched tHe gen- 
uine pain which possessed my face as I said shortly : 

"I understand." 

He did not reply, but softly approached the bed 
and settled his gaze on the peaceful face of the beau- 
tiful dead with intense affection ; then, with my mind 
made up, I hastened to the soft roll of clothes and 
took the wailing little orphan from the unresponsive 
breast of the mother. 

"Will it trouble you too much?" murmured the 



She Is Dead 6i 

grief-stricken father, motioning toward the strug- 
ghng, crying little mite of humanity as he watched 
me take it in my arms. 

"Not at all," I said, "I am glad you called me in, 
my friend; I will stay and do all I can for you in 
your great trouble." 

"Oh, indeed, Madam, I feel so grateful. We are 
Americans who came like lots of others over the trail 
last summer. She — " here he was interrupted by a 
choking sob — "was my bride then. Oh, my dar- 
ling and I were so hopeful when we started on our 
wedding day from our happy homes ; how happy we 
were even while struggling along that dreadful 
trail to Dawson! 

"I did not do right to bring her out here ; it was 
far too rough for her. Oh, my poor wife, forgive 
me ! I did not stay to think how wrong it was. She 
was so brave and true, too, in all our trials, and now 
— she is dead. Dead!" 

The boy's frame was convulsed with sobs ; he had 
some one now to whom he could tell his troubles 
and his heart gradually softened. I made him com- 
prehend that I knew and understood his feelings, for 
I, too, had lost dear ones in death. Then I began 
to comfort and encourage him, gradually rallying 
him and impressing upon his mind that he still had 
his poor helpless babe to live and work for. When 
awakened to the responsibility he must assume, he 
grew more composed and thoughtful, gazing calmly 



62 Smiles and Tears 

at the white face and seeming to long for another 
look from those soft brown eyes now closed forever. 

Then, as I held the child up to him, he pressed his 
lips reverently on its little rosy mouth and, for the 
first time, a soft, happy smile passed across his face 
as he realized that his child lived and he must do 
his duty by it. 

Through all his suffering and anguish its presence 
brought back to him new life and strength. 

Some hours afterward the undertaker came and 
placed the frail body ii:i a hastily made common coffin 
covered with white cloth; then John Richardson 
knelt at the side and prayed long and fervently, ask- 
ing God to spare him for his child's sake — who would 
remind him of the mother in years to come. Then 
he fervently kissed the dead lips as his lone heart 
beat heavily above the coffin of the loved dead. 

All night long he sat watching and praying by the 
casket that held what had been so dear to him, and 
he thought how different things might have been had 
they only had sympathetic neighbors during his 
poor wife's dangerous illness. 

The wind moaned as it came down the chimney, 
still he neither moved nor raised his head. The 
crying of the child did not rouse him, nor the coming 
and going of the neighbors, who with silent tread 
and tender words offered any little assistance. It 
was now too late. 

His Heart seemed with the dead. 



She Is Dead 63 

In the morning a little flock of sympathetic miners 
came and followed in respectful procession the bride 
of one short year to the hill-side cemetery. There 
a grave had been burnt out of the everlastingly 
frozen ground and there she was laid to rest. 

I stayed with the baby and prayed that strength 
might be given from above for the poor, lone, sor- 
rowing father. He came back unaccompanied, 
though several had offered from various motives to 
take charge of the baby. He had answered, "No, I 
must keep Bessie's child and love her as I do the 
mother." 

As he said this he would glance at me. After they 
had all left he came to my side and taking up the 
child hugged it to his breast; and the babe, seem- 
ing to know who held it, ceased fretting and went 
into a sweet sleep. 

"Take her and keep her for me," he said, "until I 
can get back to our home in the States. I will work 
for her support. Be her mother, I beg, till then, 
and if I cannot reward you God will. It is such a 
weak little thing. Bessie, you see, had been failing 
like a blighted flower for the last few months, yet 
she put up with all the fearful hardships we had to 
endure without a murmur. She had no one to notice 
it or to comfort her but me. All seem so heartless 
and cold here. It is always gold! goldl gold! they 
talk about. They seem to have no sympathy for 
such as we, but you will tend and care for the little 



64 Smiles and Tears 

one, won't you? And be patient with her, please, 
I implore you." 

As he said this, he grew white with anticipation, 
for I had not spoken. Not because I did not intend 
even before being asked, to take the Httle orphan, 
but because my heart was too full just then to prop- 
erly control myself to answer calmly. 

"It was my intention all the time to ask you for 
even if you had not requested me to take her, the 
little darling," said I, kissing her little rosy 
lips, for it was long since I had an opportunity of 
handling a baby, and it seemed to soften and soothe 
me, too, after all the hardships endured during the 
past nine months. 

"Thank you and God bless you," answered the 
helpless boy, with much fervor. 

"We can all spare something for the sake of others 
in trouble, my man," I said. "Do not fear for the 
baby. When you are ready to take her to your 
friends, if God spares her precious life, you shall 
find her ready for you. Come along home with me 
and the baby, for I will care for you also while you 
are preparing to leave the country." 



A Dawson Magdalene 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



A Dawson Magdalene 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

YES! it was only a dream. Instead of her 
head resting on a loving bosom she awoke 
to find it pillowed on thorns, and it was 
hard to bear such suffering without a moan. 

In her thin, almost transparent hands she clasped 
a little bible ; perhaps scoffers might say it was child- 
ish. 

"I wonder where real things end and dreams be- 
gin?" murmured the poor girl, as she lay on her nar- 
row bed, her pale, drawn face, bright, feverish eyes 
and parched lips drawn with' incessant pain after 
each hard spell of coughing which racked her ema- 
ciated body. 

"Oh, how long the time seems !" she murmured ; 
then she folded her poor hands again over the book 
and struggled through a "Hail Mary, Holy Mary, 
Mother of God, pray for me a sinner, now and at the 
hour of my death. Amen." 

Just then a rap was heard at the door, and in 
response to the faint "Come!" of the sufferer a 
stalwart man stepped toward the bed of the poor 



68 Smiles and Tears 

half delirious girl. She looked up at her visitor 
with wide, staring eyes. The fresh color which 
should have suffused her young face was not there, 
the innocent face of a pure life was gone. But its 
deeper expression of care and suffering, sin, and re- 
pentance, even in that little room on "Second street" 
in wicked Dawson, was suggestive of holy things. 

The visitor stood gazing down into her eyes. 
His was a well built, manly figure; world worn by 
the almost constant struggle of fifty years, with a 
look of ugly determination, but withal a sympathetic, 
kindly face — the face of a man who has passed far- 
ther beyond life's harder barriers than most men 
ever even reach. 

The girl dropped the little bible from her pale fin- 
gers and her hand trembled as she raised it im- 
ploringly toward him. He took it between his own 
warm palms and gently chafed it with a soft and 
soothing stroke like that of a tender mother. His 
eyes spoke the words all too plainly that he could 
not bring his lips to utter. 

"Poor girl, you have been your own deadly enemy, 
your own destroyer," he thought, but hesitated be- 
fore adding aloud : 

"What is the matter, Bell; have you been sick 
long?" 

"Yes, two weeks," she answered feebly, her lips 
trembling and big tear drops suddenly rising to her 
eyes. 



A Dawson Magdalene 69 

The big man with the stern, bearded face looked 
at her pityingly; his voice was almost as soft as a 
nun's at a death bed. 

She only knew him by sight; he was the manli- 
est of the men in the Klondyke, the man whose word 
was law. He had neither spoken to her, nor even 
looked at her, nor bestowed a single thought upon 
her after her name had been put before him as one 
of the vilest culprits of the demi monde, who had 
been at the bar of justice only a few weeks since. She 
remembered standing there with brazen face, dressed 
in gaudy attire, laughing and jesting coarsely as she 
and her painted sisters passed his office door to and 
from the court room, and to her mind he was the last 
man on earth to whom a poor, sick, forsaken, almost 
despised creature would have a thought of appealing 
in time of distress. He was the last man who would 
help her to commit an act of folly or a crime and was 
perfectly justified to assume a moral superiority if 
he had so desired, but he was too unassuming to ever 
even think himself superior to his fellow men. 

The girl paused after carefully wiping away the 
unbidden tears, as though she wished him to speak. 
She reverently passed her fingers over the binding of 
the little closed bible which still lay on her bosom; 
so, thinking that she would like him to read to her 
from its pages, he pointed to it and said : 

"Shall I?" 

Then he took up the book and quickly began turn- 



*jo Smiles and Tears 

ing the yellow leaves without waiting for a reply. 
But the big Scotchman was by no means prepared for 
the objection that was to follow. 

"You are not a priest, you are " 

"Never mind that now," he said, smiling pleas- 
antly; but he was evidently a little embarrassed for 
once in his life, for he looked at the ceiling, took off 
his glasses, and after wiping them with an immacu- 
late silk handkerchief, adjusted them slowly again. 

This would-be reader of the holy book did not 
even attend church. Time was when he had at- 
tended regularly, three times on Sunday and the 
same number of times during the week, but that was 
long ago, away back in Scotland, while by his side 
walked with modest dignity a rosy cheeked, pure 
young girl, his sister, whom he loved as his life. 

Since those days he had had a wide and varied ex- 
perience; he was qualified to draw a tolerably ac- 
curate difference between this young girl's reputa- 
tion and position and that of the young lass shel- 
tered and cared for by a Christian mother. He had 
heard that some of these unfortunate women had 
kind and sympathetic hearts and had performed 
many acts of charity. Yet, for all that, he dared not 
read the word of God to the girl about to leave the 
world, as he surmised. He paused and looked into 
the big blue eyes which were trying to read his 
thoughts. 

Slowly the tears trickled down his cheeks as he 



A Dawson Magdalene 71 

thought how much this poor, dying creature re- 
minded him of his own loved sister. He shuddered 
when the thought flashed through his mind that she, 
too, might have taken this dreadful journey to this 
cold region, but that was impossible. 

He thought of going for a minister whom he well 
knew, a slightly built, nervous looking, but energetic 
little man of the English Church. Should he go and 
fetch him? Would he come? He must come! 
He shut his lips firmly together for a moment while 
the wondering, questioning eyes of the girl looked 
earnestly into his face as he asked : 

"Shall I get a minister? It would be best." 

"Oh, yes, sir, please do," she said eagerly, a bright 
spot burning on either pale cheek, while she con- 
vulsively clasped the little bible again lovingly to her 
breast. 

He did not know she was a Roman Catholic, nor 
did she tell him. He lost no time in questioning 
her, but acted in his usual prompt way, so that within 
a quarter of an hour he came abruptly upon the pas- 
tor for whom he was searching. 

He was seated in front of his log cabin, which he 
had built with his own hands though often called 
away to visit the sick and dying. He was just now 
talking with several stalwart frontiersmen in an 
earnest manner over some subject which was evi- 
dently of importance to all of them. 

When his visit was explained, the Rev. B ■ 



72 Smiles and Tears 

gladly made preparations to accompany him. As 
they were leaving together the group of men burst 
out laughing, and when one of them made a coarse 
jest the big man turned and said, in his usual calm, 
determined voice: 

''Yes, this is the notorious woman whom you men- 
tion. Yet she is a woman, the same as your sisters 
or mothers, only her fate has not been kind. As she 
is dying why should she not be cared for ? Her dark 
secret is found out. Perhaps if your lives and mine 
were laid bare we should not be so ready to criticise 
others. The first duty of a critic is to be consistent 
with himself. Good morning!" 

He said this rather bitterly as he turned to re- 
join his companion. The pastor was already on his 
way to the little gaudily furnished, red-curtained 
cabin which he had often passed by before, never 
dreaming that he should for a moment bestow on it 
or its occupant a single thought. But now his keen 
ear had caught the sound of that pitiful moan of the 
unfortunate girl within, who unconsciously in her 
intense agony of soul had cried out. He had heard 
only part of her prayer and felt instinctively that help 
was needed. 

The Scotchman's face wore even a more thought- 
ful expression than usual as he walked back to his 
office, not noticing the many salutations of the men 
on the street, who all seemed in a hurry. 

He heard through the minister daily of the con- 



A Dawson Magdalene 73 

dition of the soul-sick penitent, and out of his own 
limited resources provided little bodily comforts for 
her of which nobody ever knew. 

One day, while walking along thinking of his 
own multifarious duties, he was suddenly aware of a 
not unusual sight in that town — a procession con- 
sisting of a minister and four rough looking fellows 
bearing a plain coffin — threading its way through 
the dirty streets. A shudder passed through his 
strong frame as he recognized his good friend and 
the pitiful little group of men and women who had 
been neighbors to the poor, unfortunate occupant 
of the red-curtained cabin. 

"Poor child!" he thought, "I'm glad I heard her 
pray." 

Then, quickly passing to the minister and pressing 
something into the good man's hand, the big govern- 
ment official retraced his steps down the street. 

"It must have been a hundred dollars," said John 
to his companion, as they walked down the steep hill 
side from the cemetery to the shore of the Yukon to 
haul in their fish nets. 



One of the Many 



ELLA CUNNINGHAM 



One of the Many 

ELLA CUNNINGHAM 

HE WAS from "Arizony" and his face wore a 
patient, resigned look, as though fate could 
have nothing worse in store for him than 
had already befallen him. He drifted into our cabin 
one bitterly cold day in January and, as is usual in 
the Klondyke with people when they meet for the 
first time, we soon began to exchange our experiences 
on the trail. We presently entirely forgot our own 
experiences and became absorbed in the brilliant tale 
he told us. 

"We had bad luck right at the start out," he said : 
"Took us twenty-two days from San Francisco to 
Port Angeles. Shipped in an old tub that wouldn't 
Stan' nawthin', an' turrible storms come up, when 
we thought every minute would be our last. When 
we got to Port Angeles, the passengers all left the 
boat an' we tried to get 'em to put off our outfit, but 
they wouldn't do it — said we had shipped to Skaguay 
an' they was goin' to carry 'em to Skaguay. So we 
all went over to Seattle on another boat an' bought 
new outfits there. Thought if we ever got our first 



78 Smiles and Tears 

outfits they'd come in handy, anyhow. But we 
didn't never git 'em; they condemned the boat, or 
something, so she never got out of Port Angeles, an' 
our outfits is all thar yit, fer all I know. Hain't 
never seen nawthin' of 'em sence. Wall, we shipped 
frum Seattle on the Whitelow " 

"Ah!" we involuntarily ejaculated. 

"Yes," he said, "she burnt down to the water's 
edge at Skaguay, before we could git our new out- 
fits unloaded, an' thar we was, agin. We went 
over to Dyea an' bought up some stuff, me an' th' old 
woman, an' tried keepin' a restaurant thar, but we 
lost r»oney on it. Then we moved over to Long 
Lake an' started a restaurant thar, but we lost money 
on it right along. Lost money on everything we 
tried," he added, plaintively. 

"Then we moved down to Linderman an' I sent 
back to 'Frisco fer more money. When I got that 
I kep' buyin' up stuff an' buyin' up stuff, thinkin' 
I was never goin' to git a chance to git any more. 
When we got ready to start we had a big scow, with 
a big outfit an' two horses an' the dogs in it, an' I 
hired men to help us down the river. We got down 
the lakes pretty well, an' when we got to the Canyon 
I begun to look 'round 'mong the pilots to git my 
scow tuk through. 

"E>ery one of 'em wanted fifty dollars — wouldn't 
take us through fer nawthin' less. While we was 
lookin' 'round, I see men come up an' ontie thar 



One of the Many 79 

boats an' light out; an' I says to Otto — the man I 
had hired to steer my boat — 'Here's men lightin' out 
an' takin' thar own boats through.' 

''Otto 'lowed he thought we could, too, so we tuk 
the horses out, an' the dogs, an' sent them an' th' old 
woman down to the foot of the Canyon ; an' Otto an' 
me an' the men in the boat, we lit out. I was in the 
bow, an' when we got about half way through the 
first part of the Canyon my steering sweep broke." 

"What did you do?" we gasped, breathlessly. 

"Wall, Otto he yelled fer me to 'Rew! rew!' 
(He was a furiner, you know, an' he said *rew' fer 
'row') he explained, parenthetically, "but I couldn't 
'rew !' nor do nawthin' without no sweep, so Otto he 
jist tuk the boat through somehow, 'til we got to 
the eddy an' thar we went in an' tied up." 

"Tied up in the eddy !" we exclaimed, in concert. 

"Yes, tied up to them rocks thar," he answered. 

"But I don't see how you could," I persisted. 

"Wall, we jist had to," he returned ; and of course 
there was no use arguing further against such con- 
vincing logic as that. 

"One o' the men went back an' got a new sweep," 
he continued, "an' we started out through the second 
part of the Canyon. Jist as we got about half way 
through that, durned if Otto didn't break his sweep, 
too, an' thar we was. An' he was the sternman, too ! 
Wall, the scow jist went on through herself, an' 
when we got out of the Canyon an' went to land her 



8o Smiles and Tears 

we jist put her on top of a big, flat rock, an' thar 
she stuck an' we couldn't push her off, noway. Th' 
old woman was down thar with the dogs an' horses, 
so we jist waded back an' forth an' carried the camp 
things to shore, an' camped right thar that night. 

"The mosquitoes et us awful," he added, sadly, as 
an afterthought. 

"In the mornin' we tuk ofif a thousand pounds of 
the stuff an' that lightened the scow some, an' then 
we got out the block an' tackle, an' some of the men 
stan'in' round helped us git her off the rock. Then 
I says to the boys, says I, 'Boys, I've had enough. 
Ef you want to try her through White Horse try 
her, but I hain't agoin' to go through.' 

"Wall, the boys 'lowed they could go through, so 
away they went, an' they did go through an' scraped 
on the rocks some, but didn't hurt her any. Me an' 
the old woman we loaded the thousand pounds onto 
the horses an' packed it down to the foot of White 
Horse; an' thar we loaded up the scow agin an' 
lit out. 

"We had a pretty hard time of it in Thirty Mile," 
he said, musingly; and we sat in silence, for we 
knew the vision of that dreadful ride was passing 
through his mind, "but we didn't lose nawthin' 
thar. 

"Kep' comin' on down an' one day, when we got 
below Five Fingers, one o' the horses jumped out 
into the river." 



One of the Many 8i 

"What in the world did you do?" we again inter- 
rogated excitedly. 

"Jist got to shore as quick as we could, an' the 
horse swam along after the scow, an' we loaded him 
in again an' went on," he said, mildly, as though 
there was but one thing to be done, and they were 
in the habit of doing that regularly. 

"When we got down here an' found out how 
things was goin' we didn't have much hopes of gitin' 
any claims," he continued; "so I went to work on 
one o' the cricks an' th' old woman she keeps a 
boardin' house thar, an' we have done pretty well — 
or shall, if we git our pay," he added. 

"Didn't you take out good pay, this winter?" I 
ventured. 

"Yes, we tuk out good dump all right 'nufif," he 
answered, "but t'other day a woman come out thar 
an' told the owner to quit workin', fer he was on her 
ground. She has had him stopped by law," he went 
on, "so none of us are workin' now, an' we don't 
know how it will be about pay." 

"But, surely, the law here gives the workingman 
his wages first, as in our country," we suggested. 

"Don't know nawthin' 't all 'bout that," he said, 
with an ominous shake of his head, and it was evi- 
dent he feared the worst. 

The last we heard of him we read in a Dawson 
paper, that as he was riding a horse along Domin- 



82 Smiles and Tears 

ion creek the ground suddenly gave way, and horse 
and rider were rolled down the steep bank some 
eight feet into the water. 

So it is evident that the demon of ill luck is still 
pursuing him. 



A Miner Poet 



ANONYMOUS 



A Miner Poet 

ANONYMOUS 

THE following verses were found written on 
a tree, the bark having been carefully 
stripped and a smooth surface prepared. 
Like many other such productions which have been 
discovered in the Klondyke, they were evidently the 
work of a miner who had been resting there after a 
fruitless tramp in search for the gold he never found. 
The doggerel, which is given verbatim, was illus- 
trated with more than ordinary ability. 

This is a pan of glittering gold 

From the Klondyke river, swift and cold. 

Found by a northern miner bold, 

And by him to a steamboat owner sold. 



This is the steamboat owner sly 
Who wanted his boats to the North to ply, 
And tried to buy over the honest P. I., 
Then put his rates up ever so high. 



86 Smiles and Tears 

This is the editor, false and cute, 
Who said it was proved beyond dispute, 
By evidence clear, which none could refute, 
That the best zvay in was "the poor man's route. 

This is the poor man, innocent fool. 
Who never went to a lying school. 
And did not know that he was the tool 
Of heartless slanders false and cruel. 

This is the grave that the poor man tilled. 
After he'd taken a fever and chill' d; 
Contracted while climbing the Stickeen hills. 
Leaving his zvife to settle his bills. 

This is the place where those fellers will go 
Who fooled the innocent miner so — ■ 
Robbing him of his hard earned dou'gh 
And giving him only ice and snow. 



A Tale of Tails 



"LORD OVERALLS" 



A Tale of Tails 

"lord overalls " 

THREE years ago, when there were only half 
a dozen cabins in Dawson, the camp was 
struck by a cold spell that promised to 
freeze the blood in the toughest of Indians. The air 
was so cold that it fairly snapped, so silent that, had 
anyone been foolish enough to squander one in so 
ridiculous an experiment, you might have heard a 
pin drop anywhere within a radius of a mile. 

The cold, of course, was not confined alone to 
Dawson, but extended along the crystal floored river 
north and south, taking in Circle City, where a hun- 
dred or so of us shivered together and spat discon- 
solately at stoves that gave forth no heat. 

When the news of the strike on Klondyke was 
made I took the fever as bad as anybody and de- 
termined to go there over the ice and stake a claim. 
Things were slow in Circle City anyway and there 
was always a chance of starvation dropping in to 
visit us, so I pulled out. 

I had five lively Malamute dogs, the same ones 
you see curled up in the snow there, and so I loaded 



90 Smiles and Tears 

a light sled with a tent, provisions sufficient for four 
days, a small stove, blankets, an extra pair of mitts 
and moccasins, and, hooping to the dogs, started off. 

I started about five o'clock in the morning. The 
moon was still high in the sky; the stars clustered 
brilliantly about her and the north light swung a 
white veil around them as though they were brides 
awaiting admission to heaven. 

There was a fair trail along the river, although a 
city man might have sworn no little before he gave in 
at the completion of the first half mile. We made 
good time and when it was grub time, I made camp, 
built a fire and had a cup of hot coffee, bread and 
bacon and a pipeful of tobacco. Then I gave the 
Malamutes a biscuit each, broke camp and went on 
again. At nightfall these operations were repeated ; 
my little tent soon provided a shelter from the wind, 
the stove made it warm, and after eating as hearty a 
meal as I could make off simple fare and feeding the 
dogs until they rolled over and fell asleep, I turned 
into my blankets and was oblivious of everything un- 
til five o'clock again. 

The second day out, however, a snow storm blew 
up. It lasted for several hours and the trail became 
so soft with wet snow that I could progress along 
it only with difficulty. We struggled on bravely, 
the dogs settling down to the work like four-footed 
heroes, their heads within a few inches of the snow, 
their tails as rigid as the mast of a laboring ship. 



A Tale of Tails 91 

Every little while we had to rest ; by degrees our 
provisions began to run short, and finally, when we 
were yet but a little way on our journey, there was 
nothing left to cook except the bags that had con- 
tained our food. Hour after hour I chewed the cud 
of reflection, but the poor dogs were at a disadvan- 
tage. Being Eskimo dogs their education had been 
sadly overlooked and, by the pleading look in their 
green eyes I saw how hungry they were and how 
they looked to me to provide them with something 
to eat. 

One after another they began to soldier in the 
traces and it soon became apparent that unless their 
jaws were soon set in motion their little legs would 
also have to go "on strike." 

For hours I pondered over the problem. I had 
heard of boiled moccasins, but fried ditto might not 
be as tempting; and even canvas bags, without a fair 
proportion of bacon grease sauce, could hardly be 
nutritious. 

At last an idea struck me. I made camp, lit a 
fire, and, as soon as the dogs were assured that it 
was to be a "bluff" dinner they snarled in chorus 
at me and immediately fell asleep. Then I sharp- 
ened my knife and in a twinkling had cut off their 
beautiful tails, without even awakening them. 

I melted snow, put my kettle on the stove, and 
soon the five tails were bubbling and steaming, emit- 
ting so fragrant an odor that my mouth began to 



92 Smiles and Tears 

water and I was in danger of suffocation by freezing 
down the throat. 

When everything was ready I called the dogs by 
their respective names — Tschu-tschu, Yukon, Swat- 
ki, Chief, Musha — and as they awoke they looked en- 
quiringly at one another as though asking : "Is this 
a dream?" 

Without loss of time I fed to each dog its own 
tail, and the broth was so invigorating that when 
once they were in the harness again, they pulled me 
all the way to Dawson without stopping — a matter 
of over a hundred miles ! 



After Christmas in the 
Police Court 



WILLIAM GALPIN 



After Christmas in the 
Police Court 

WILLIAM GALPIN 

WHEN I first arrived in Dawson the police 
magistrate (an inspector in the N. W. 
M. P.) held his court in a log cabin 
opening on the barrack square. Soon 
it was found necessary to build a court house, and 
the inspector then tried cases (and there were many 
every day) in the improved building; that is, it was 
divided from the judge's court by a thin parti- 
tion, through which could be heard every word that 
was uttered by judge, lawyer' or witness. 

Through this new court room people passed from 
the street to the judge's court, and beside these two 
doors there was a staircase which led to a suite of 
rooms above, in which footsteps sounded provok- 
ingly loud. 

In the room was the usual type of Yukon stove, 
which occupied about one-third of the floor space; 
another third was filled by four benches of about 
eight feet in length, whereon lawyers, witnesses, 
prisoners and the general public were permitted to 
arrange themselves at pleasure, and the remaining 



96 Smiles and Tears 

third was occupied by a small raised platform on 
which were placed a table and stool for the presid- 
ing magistrate. On his left was a table for a short- 
hand writer and a cupboard. The whole room was 
about ten by twenty-four, so it is not to be won- 
dered at that the little place was often blocked with 
people. 

But on the morning I visited the court there were 
only five people present — the genial magistrate, his 
faithful stenographer, a stalwart policeman, his 
prisoner and myself. 

The constable was sworn and gave his evidence 
in that calm, straightforward, matter-of-fact style 
for which the Dawson police are noted. No exag- 
gerations on his part, no embellishments, no wish- 
ing to magnify the case against the prisoner and 
stand before his superior officer as a smart man. 

There was nothing in the case which called for 
comment. The constable told how he had been 
summoned by the prisoner's boon companions, who 
had refused to go home with their inebriate part- 
ner; that he was unable to walk on the slippery 
roads along the dangerous cliffs that dark night, 
and insisted on staying out in a temperature of 30 
degrees below zero to "keep Christmas." The con- 
stable had mercifully lodged him in a warm cell, to 
:which he went quietly enough. 

Then, as the magistrate asked the prisoner what 
he had to say for himself my eyes turned toward 



After Christmas in Court 97 

the ragged little figure which had been standing 
with bowed head, hat in hand, in front of the raised 
table. 

I altered my position so that I might get a more 
favorable view of him, and this is what I saw : 

A thick-set, diminutive man, dressed in loose fit- 
ting garments which had evidently once belonged to 
a man fully a foot taller; the boots were full of 
holes and many sizes too large; the trousers were 
wrinkled like the bellows of a concertina; the coat 
had once served as a frock coat, and had perhaps 
graced the shoulders of an elegantly dressed man 
many years before it had lost its shape and color. 
Around his neck the prisoner wore a huge dirty 
woolen "comforter," and in lieu of a waistcoat and 
shirt he wore an ill-fitting brown jersey. His 
hands were begrimed with dirt; his head was too 
large for the size of his body^and was covered with 
an extraordinary amount of dirty, black, bushy hair, 
which stood up in wild confusion and hung over 
the collar of his coat. His face was the color of 
his hands and covered almost to the eyes with 
thick, matted hair. But his nose was the most 
striking feature of his face ; it was abnormally large 
and broad around the nostrils, but swept suddenly 
into the space between the eyes with an inward 
curve, being devoid of that part of the nose which 
is so prominent in busts of Napoleon and Welling- 



98 Smiles and Tears 

ton. The cheekbones were high and round, the 
forehead low and prominent. 

As he stood there with bowed form, puckered 
face, hands crossed in front of him, and holding a 
woolen hat somewhat the shape of a flower-pot, my 
thoughts conjured up a Siberian prisoner of a low 
Russian type. 

"Have you anything to say?" asked the magis- 
trate. 

Uttering a few rapid words in a guttural voice, 
the bundle of rags quickly prostrated itself on the 
floor and abjectly clasped the feet of the magis- 
trate, at the same time bending down his head and 
touching the floor with his forehead ; then rising 
quickly the prisoner poured forth a torrent of words 
accompanied by actions which plainly said, "Have 
mercy on me; it was Christmas, and I admit being 
somewhat unsteady." 

"Have you anything to say?" repeated the mag- 
istrate sternly. 

I thought the man had a good deal to say. 

Down again dropped the groveling prisoner at 
the feet of the officer. 

"Make him get up, constable." 

The constable took hold of his arm and made him 
rise to his feet. 

"Forty dollars or seven days." 

The constable explained, and soon a long, dirty 
buckskin gold poke was produced, and though the 



After Christmas in Court 99 

court does not openly recognize "dust" as money 
the prisoner somehow paid his fine and seemed grat- 
ified to think he could escape with his life. 

The fines for drunkenness, gambling, etc., at 
Dawson during 1898 amounted to about $50,000. 



LofC. 



"Only One More" 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



"Only One More" 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

ONE short year ago we lived in a pleasant 
little home among birds and flowers in 
sun-kissed California. Even there we be- 
gan to hear the faint howls of the dis- 
tant wolf, poverty. It seemed a very long way off 
then, though it often caused a shudder as the sound 
became more audible. We were not even "fairly 
well off." We were poor, but he — my darling hus- 
band, now so cold and white yonder — was proud, 
hopeful and always cheery under the hardest trials. 

Here as well as there thC' rich have the Argus 
eye, which never closes, to see every opportunity, 
so it seems there is nothing for the struggling poor 
to do but to die. 

Qh. my husband ! are you at rest forever, or only 
sleeping? Does the fear of poverty still haunt you? 

The little money we earned soon took wings 
after our child's long and serious illness, followed 
alas! by death — the only friend of which the poor 
can boast, and yet dreaded so much ! Kind, lovely, 
death! Trouble, privation, unkindness and disap- 
pointment are no longer felt when with Thee! 



104 Smiles and Tears 

After baby's death we gathered together our lit- 
tle all and drifted like thousands of others to this 
far-off "land of gold," willing to turn our hands 
to anything; not doubting, after reading and hear- 
ing the glowing accounts from the Klondyke, that 
work could be had in plenty. 

But what did we find! Thousands of others in 
the same condition as ourselves. 

Month after month, week after week, day after 
day, my darling, so brave, so constant, would search 
for work, tramping over rugged and steep moun- 
tains, up canyons, creeks and gulches, with his 
heavy burden of food and blankets, sufficient merely 
to keep life and warmth in his dear body. 

At first he would return hopeful and even enthu- 
siastic. Then there was a struggle to keep up a 
semblance of courage, and finally his step grew 
slower, his eyes sadder, his face troubled and care- 
worn, with deep lines settling on his brow. 

No matter how early he started from home on 
these occasions scores of hardy pioneers would be 
there before him, most of them as needy as him- 
self. 

The claim — his goal — was either staked already, 
or someone else had applied for it when he arrived 
at the recorder's office, and every position was 
taken ere he could obtain it. 

How often he and I sat in our dimly lighted cabin, 
desolate, talking of disappointments caused by the 



"Only One More" 105 

wicked lies sent out to our quiet little home by the 
rich monopoHst or the callous steamship companies, 
and wondering if these differences would exist after 
death. 

We grew so hopeless that we even began to lose 
faith in a hereafter. 

Oh, how I wish I could only put my thoughts 
and feelings into adequate words! Then I would 
cry out in such earnest tones as would cause those 
outside to give the lie to the falsifiers who wilfully 
deceive the poor ; who draw them here to starve and 
die, instead of to pick up gold from the roots of 
the moss and on the trails, as is reported ! 

My darling lying there so white, so cold, used to 
smile; his eyes would sparkle as he read these mar- 
vellous accounts day after day, whilst I listened, 
and to both our ears it was sweet music. 

It all seems now like an awful dream — this ever- 
lasting struggle, this worry night and day to keep 
the flame of life flickering while trudging wearily 
over the rough trail. After our arrival here came 
the consciousness of being helplessly shut out from 
every chance for life, for when once here and money 
gone there is an awful feeling of helplessness which 
cannot be shaken off. 

I shall never forget his face the day he decided 
to start for the Klondyke ! With eyes beaming with 
hope he declared in his old, happy way that surely 
no other place in America, or in the world, could 



io6 Smiles and Tears 

be found so encouraging. As we had sufficient to 
take us there, he thought we could not help but 
succeed. 

So we decided to go, but, pitiful Heaven! Mo- 
nopoly and Starvation were even more surely on 
our track than in America. We found the auto- 
crats even here, and Favoritism as much at home on 
the snow fields as it was in our own fair country. 
The poor lay dying everywhere, and it was only 
the rich who could procure comfort. 

Last night, as I sat by his hard bed shivering with 
cold, weak with hunger and broken down with con- 
stant worry, he said : 

"Lie down, my darling, by my side. I shall rest 
now." 

"No, dear," I answered. "I must watch, and I 
shall only disturb you." 

After that he was soon still; his heavy eyes 
drooped and closed. 

All night I crouched on the floor, watching my 
poor darling, till such a feeling of utter loneliness 
crept over me that I was constrained to approach 
the single window pane and gaze out on the fretful, 
ever moving, mighty Yukon river. Then my eyes 
were drawn upwards to the clear, blue, cold sky in 
which the brilliant stars glittered with unusual lus- 
tre, so infinite in distance. 

Still no sound broke the oppressive silence of the 
room, when suddenly I was awakened from my 



"Only One More" 107 

trance by the sharp, clear notes of a bugle across 
the river, and by the sweet tones of the cathedral 
bell heralding the approach of day, and soon people 
began to pass, chatting about their various pursuits 
as they hurried past my cabin. 

Suddenly I turned toward my husband's lonely 
bed. There he lay, his dear face full of peace and 
unspeakable calm. On it rested a triumphant smile 
which parted his lips. Yes ! he had gone where the 
fear and disappointments of this life could not 
reach him. 

I did not cry out, nor was I disturbed by the 
sounds outside. Seating myself by his side to 
think, I tried to share in his rest, and then out of 
my aching heart I prayed, "My Lord, my dear 
Savior! I need Thy help!" Then, kissing those 
silent lips, which, though so rigid, seemed to re- 
spond, I took his thin, closed iiand in mine and con- 
tinued my heartfelt prayer: "Should your spirit 
live, watch over me. Tell the blessed Savior, who, 
we have been told, makes all things right, your 
story. Tell Him how the gold in the Klondyke 
turned to ashes. Tell Him I am alone and waiting. 
Tell Him I want to be called soon !" 

Hush ! Silence ! Did my darling husband's lips 
move? Did I hear a voice? No, no! It was only 
a fancy. He was silent forever, and I — I was alone ! 



A Klondyker in Seattle 



A. F. GEORGE 



A Klondyker in Seattle 

A. F. GEORGE 

DAWSON can boast of three newspapers: 
The Sun, Government organ; the Daily 
News, the latest arrival, and the Nugget, 
the pioneer paper, which is essentially the miners' pa- 
per, and has from the first issue waged uncompromis- 
ing war against the representatives of the Canadian 
Government in Dawson. 

It is always on the qui vive for any signs of 
"grafts," and regardless of all consequences it cham- 
pions what it believes to be the miners' rights. It 
has sometimes overstepped the bounds of that wide 
freedom which is allowed the press on British soil, 
but notwithstanding its sensationalism and often 
greatly exaggerated statements it is a paper that 
vastly influences the hardy miners in their opinions 
of Yukon matters. 

The editor, an Englishman, has taken a very 
prominent position in Dawson affairs, and has a 
scathing pen when he takes it into his head to "roast'* 
some one who has incurred his displeasure. 

Lately he has visited the "outside," but like many 



ri2 Smiles and Tears 

others he had a strange longing to return to the 
frozen metropoHs of the North-West, and has given 
me the following lines for publication in this little 
book, expressive of his feelings : 



On the biiniing streets of 'Frisco, on Seattle's redJiot 
paves, 

'Mid the solemn-vlsaged multitude of shop and fac- 
tory slaves, 

In the rush and roar of cities, in hotel or on the 
street. 

You will Und a Klondyke victim in each stranger 
that you meet. 



Oh, there's been a mighty exodus of diggers, men 

of brawn. 
To this land of tribulation, by sharpers to be shorn; 
And of every luxury on earth ive each have had a 

nil. 

For ive're given a Christian welcome if we only foot 
the bill. 



And we've seen the big white elephant (all 'Frisco 

could have shown) 
And against Seattle's slot machines our good dust 

we have bloivn; 



A Klondyker in Seattle 113 

Oh, we've been in old BoJiemia, and we've even been 
to chiircJi, 

But we've, every man and woman, missed the ob- 
ject of our search. 



Like children just let out of school for pleasure we 

were bound, 
And perfect happiness, they said, was corralled on 

the Sound; 
So we loaded up our Gladstone and bou'ght a good, 

big sack. 
And vowed until we'd had our share we never would 

go back. 



But all things taste like ashes in this land of cheer- 
less gloom, 

And we're saddened, every one of us, like mourn^ 
ers at a tomb; 

For the sky's all overclouded and the air's all -filled 
zvith steam, 

And for us there's no enjoyment where the sun- 
shine cannot gleam. 



Oh, we'll hie us back to Dawson, where the air's 

like HoO, 
So full of electricity, you're always on the go; 



114 Smiles and Tears 

Where there ain't no Jiight to hinder "when you're 

up against the worst," 
"Where there ain't no ten commandments and a 

man can raise a thirst." 



Where the air's like nitrous oxide and a man knows 

he's alive, 
]And the hum of busy "skeetcrs" sounds like bees 

within a hive; 
And the dames are free and easy and the men are 

brave and true, 
And are satisfied zuith zvhisky if they can't get 

"hootchinoo." 



Oh, we're going back to Daivson just to hear the 

Aurora roar, 
While we trip the "light fantastic" zvith the dames 

across the floor; 
Where the girls are captivating and love a merry 

jest, , 

And the most inveterate "masher" has endurance 

put to test. 

Oh, zve're going back to Dazvson, where it gets so 

snapping cold, 
Where one's pozver of locomotion comes back as in 

days of old; 



A Klondyker in Seattle 115 

Where at sixty-two or more below by our stoves we 

talkee talk, 
But, once outside, 'good gracious, how we can walkee 

zvalk! 



Where the planets shine in splendor in marvelous 

array, 
And the sky is white like distant snow with the 

Heaven's Milky Way; 
And the moon in all her glory is so large and cold 

and white, 
That caps are reverently raised in worship at the 

sight. 

Oh, we must go back to Dawson; kind friends don't 
keep us here, 

For nothing nozv looks good to us, not even five- 
cent beer; 

The air's so moisture-laden zve're stiffening with 
the mold, 

And when it's fifty-two above zve're shivering zmth 
the cold. 



So we must go back to Dawson, where the mighty 

Yukon flows — 
Excepting in the winter, when she dons her winter 

clothes; 



ii6 Smiles and Tears 

Where the air is so inspiring, both to action and to 

thought. 
That Daivson's doomed to lasting fame as a zvinicr- 

time resort. 

Our girth is sadly shrinking and our breath takes 

jerky pants, 
For we've seen all our relations — all our sisters, 

cousins, aunts, 
"And we're feeling very lonesome for the dry and 

frosty snow, 
'And all the pleasures that belong to sixty-two belozv. 

So we're 'going back to Dawson, where there ain't 

no blooming mist. 
Where day by day and month by month the hills 

are sunshine-kissed. 
Where there's yellozv-legged protection ''when 

you're up against the worst," 
"Where there ain't no ten commandments and a 

man can raise a thirst." 



Who Is to Blame 



WILLIAM GALPIN 



Who Is to Blame 

WILLIAM GALPIN 

SNOW was falling heavily. The thermometer 
pointed to a few degrees above zero and the 
main street in Dawson was already growing 
forsaken, although it was not more than three o'clock 
in the afternoon. 

No mail had arrived for a month and as I hur- 
ried away from the post office, dejected and wor- 
ried, I felt my hand suddenly grasped, while a voice 
exclaimed : 

"Why, captain, how are yoy?" 

I recognized neither the voice nor the figure at 
first, until my excited friend explained who he was. 
Then it was my turn to be moved, and moved I was, 
and not ashamed to own it either, until my cheeks 
were wet with tears; for I now recognized the 
wreck of as fine a man as anybody had ever the priv- 
ilege of calling friend. 

The last time I had seen my friend was when I 
had parted from him at Calgary in the winter of '97, 
and it was now the winter of '99, a period of two 
years. During this time I had been gradually 



I20 Smiles and Tears 

ascending the successful ladder of life in Dawson, 

but from the appearance of Jack A it had been 

with him two years of hard buffetings with mis- 
fortune. 

When we parted at Calgary to reach Dawson by 
different routes I had tried to persuade Jack to 
accompany me via Vancouver, Skaguay and Ben- 
nett; but the accounts he had read of the facilities, 
the natural advantages and prospective richness 
of the "Edmonton route" had so strongly convinced 
him of the superiority of it above all others, that he 
had quite pitied me as we shook hands at the station 
and bid each other "God speed." 

I half regretted leaving him, for we had travelled 
from England together and had both set out biased 
in favor of an "all Canadian route," persuading 
ourselves by some peculiar process of logic that 
as Britishers we were in duty bound to go the whole 
way to Klondyke on Canadian soil and help in our 
small way to swell the Canadian exchequer! 

I had never seen Jack from that day to this. 
Then he was a tall, handsome fellow of thirty- 
five. We had been volunteer officers in the same 
corps and many a time had I admired his well set up 
figure as together we wended our way to the drill 
hall. And what a favorite he was with his men, 
too! Bright, cheery, witty, though a regular mar- 
tinet on the parade ground! 

Could this be the same man whom I had left 



Who Is to Blame 121 

standing head and shoulders above any other pas- 
sengers on the platform two years ago, now bent 
with a painful stoop? The squareness was gone 
from his chest, the trim moustache, now mingling 
with straggling beard, drooping and dry; the 
clothes — well, I do not know whether it was the al- 
tered appearance in the muscular frame or the 
woebegone aspect of the tattered garments which 
had brought the tears to my eyes. Perhaps it was 
both! 

Seeing that he was shivering with cold and that 
his clothes could not resist the biting wind which 
was beginning to sweep along the banks of the Yu- 
kon, I asked my old friend to accompany me to my 
cabin. 

"Just come with me first, Will, and then I am at 
your service. I have promised to take this parcel 
to a friend of mine staying with me." 

He conducted me to one of the cheap ( !) bunk 
houses in Dawson. 

When I say ''cheap" I do not mean a five cent 
doss house or a Salvation Army cot for the same 
price, but cheap for Dawson, where a dollar goes 
no further than ten cents on the outside. Cheap, be- 
cause night after night the bunks are filled with men 
too poor to buy a log hut, too weak to obtain work, 
too thriftless to save, too lazv to earn an honest liv- 
ing. 

Many who occupy these cheap bunks are men 



122 Smiles and Tears 

who are totally unfitted to live in a mining camp — 
men who have spent what they brought into the 
country and who have neither the wish nor the in- 
clination to work for wages, but, like the placid 
Micawber, ever "wait for something to turn up." 

As we entered the bunks were empty and the 
habitues were sitting on rough stools round a huge 
stove placed in the middle of the room, listening 
to one of their number who was reading aloud some 
interesting news from a Dawson newspaper. 

"Do you see those four men?" said Jack, nod- 
ding toward a group of dejected looking, shabbily 
dressed men ranging from twenty-five to thirty-five 
years of age, sitting somewhat apart from the circle, 
bending over a map which was lying on a small, 
rudely made table. "They are the only survivors of 
a party of twelve who intended to travel to Dawson 
by the Edmonton route; they picked me up in the 
McDougal Pass or I should not be here to-day." 

1 was introduced to the party, two of whom I 
found were related to friends of mine. 

As I stood looking at them I breathed a prayer 
of heartfelt thankfulness to the guiding hand which 
had pointed in another direction when I had thought 
of taking that fatal route. 

Though Jack was shockingly altered in appear- 
ance, he still retained the same cheery voice and 
happy smile, but these men were listless, heartbroken 
and passive. 



Who Is to Blame 123 

iWhen my companion had delivered the parcel of 
good things to the hungry quartette (which, by the 
by, he had purchased with his last five dollars) 
he turned to me with his old smile and said : 

"Now, my boy, let us take a hansom; but you 
must pay the cabbie, for I'm stumped." 

I laughed, in spite of myself, as we walked out 
arm in arm, and made our way with difficulty 
through the dirty streets, stumbling over obstacles 
in the dark, till we arrived at what Jack termed 
my "mansion." 

Soon we had a cheerful fire blazmg m the Yukon 
stove (bless the inventor!) and after the best meal a 
couple of bachelors could provide from "canned 
goods" we wound up with strong coffee and the 
pipe of peace. 

Putting an extra half-dozen candles in improvised 
candle-sticks and another pine log on the fire we 
drew our homemade rocking chairs nearer the stove 
and made ourselves as comfortable as anybody can 
be in this inhospitable clime. 

"Now, Jack, I'm dying to know what you have 
been doing with yourself. I have already heard a 
dozen hard luck stories from persons who have come 
to Dawson by 'the poor man's route,' but they seem 
too 'far-fetched' to be believed." 

"No, old fellow, they cannot be exaggerated even 
if they were written by Munchausen. Look at me! 
Two years ago I was vain enough to think few men 



124 Smiles and Tears 

could beat me in feats of strength. It was a pleas- 
ure to live; life to me was like a pleasant story 
book, half read. I thought mankind was a sort of 
brotherhood ready and willing to help distress when 
it was genuine. I believed when people wrote books 
and gave descriptions of, and advice about, little 
known countries that they did so from a feeling of 
anxiety to let others profit by their experiences, to 
warn them of dangerous pitfalls and point out the 
easiest roads — ^just as a Christian does who has trod- 
den the shoals and depths of misery, when he unself- 
ishly spends time and money to lead an erring 
brother by a surer path than he himself had blindly 
traversed. 

"But now I am weak and as feeble as an old man. 
I feel that twenty years have been added to my life. 
I no longer thirst for the drill ground or gymnasium. 
I see in mankind a selfish, struggling crowd, ever 
willing to take advantage of a brother's misfortunes ; 
willing even to deliberately lie and take a great deal 
of trouble to distort facts and publish them broad- 
cast, in order to send a too trusting public over thou- 
sands of miles of dangerous rivers, rapids, moun- 
tains, and swamps ; to send them into a country full 
of the most cruel hardships, where a man must work 
like a veritable slave ; must go hungry, become frost- 
bitten, and scurvy cursed, often without a friend to 
lend a helping hand." 



Who Is to Blame 125 

"But why should people write such misinforma- 
tion to the papers?" I asked. 

"Why?" said my friend, jumping up in his excite- 
ment and pacing the room, "Why? Well, simply to 
boom the places through which the wretched victims 
must pass while traversing the much belauded and 
belied route; simply to bring in a few dollars to 
tradesmen, packers, freighters, roadhouses, steam- 
boat and railroad companies. Oh ! God will surely 
rain down vengeance on some of these inhuman 
brutes now that He has heard the cries of the many 
innocent ones, who have endured tortures which 
would have brought satisfaction to the most cruel 
of the Spanish inquisitors. I am glad to know that 
the Government of Canada is trying to undo some 
of the mischief caused by this abominable lying. 
Relief parties have been sent out to bring food and 
medicine to those who are still struggling along that 
fateful valley of despair, but the hearts of the would- 
be good Samaritans will be rent by the many tales 
they will hear of the brave but ineffectual struggles 
which father and son have made against disease and 
death; by the sight of many little mounds of earth 
which contain the bodies of men who set out from 
Edmonton with trusting, hopeful hearts, believing 
they would carry back to the quiet little home and its 
anxious ones the wherewithal to make the burden of 
life a little easier to bear for mother and children. 
But, alas! how many burdens have been added — 



126 Smiles and Tears 

burdens which have completely crushed whole fam- 
ilies into the deepest slough of despair !" 

I had heard tales at various times about the suf- 
ferings endured by the unfortunate pilgrims who had 
been persuaded to take what was called the "poor 
man's route" to Klondyke, but the truth had never 
been brought home so vividly to my mind as it was 
now. It did seem foolish for three thousand people 
to decide to go to the mouth of the Mackenzie, many 
miles above the Arctic Circle, and then cross into 
Alaska, pay duty on their goods at Fort Yukon and 
retrace their steps up the Yukon to Dawson; but 
now I fully realize what a baneful influence was ex- 
ercised by somebody over the minds and actions of 
these martyrs. 

When my companion had somewhat calmed down 
I asked him to give me some of the details of his 
journey, 

"I will not enter fully into all we endured," he 
began; "that would take too long and would do 
neither of us any good ; but I will just give a slight 
sketch, adhering strictly to facts, and will leave it to 
anyone else with a mastery of words to fill in the de- 
tails. Remember I am only one of many and that I 
have escaped more fortunately than scores of others. 

"When you left me at Calgary I went on to Ed- 
monton by train, stayed there to buy an outfit, and 
learn all I could about the trails. 

"There were many hundreds of hopeful prospec- 



Who Is to Blame 127 

tors who knew as little about the journey as I did. 

"I obtained a mass of information from books, 
from men who had sailed the Mackenzie, and spent 
many years of their lives in the North-West; most 
of the notes were afterwards proved to be utterly un- 
reliable. 

"Among those preparing for the journey north- 
ward were many men from San Francisco, Los 
Angeles, Seattle, Ottawa, Montreal and a few from 
England. 

"Toward the end of April, everybody began to be 
anxious to push on toward Athabasca Landing. 

"I had joined a party of seven ; we hired a couple 
of wagons to carry our outfits over one of the rough- 
est roads I have ever seen. At Athabasca Landing 
we bought timber and made two strong boats after 
the style of those which are used by the Hudson 
Bay Company. We divided ' ourselves into two 
parties, four in each boat. 

"The first part of our journey was a most wretched 
one; the cold was still very cruel, and the torrents 
of rain which fell cast a gloom over the whole 
party. Now and then we would land and make a 
good fire, dry our clothes and attend to our ravenous 
appetites. 

"We passed the numerous rapids safely, but I shall 
never forget the trouble we had with our goods. 
Once or twice we were in imminent danger, but as 
we had all been accustomed more or less to manage 



128 Smiles and Tears 

boats we reached Fort Murray none the worse for 
the struggle, though we had damaged a goodly part 
of our food with water, 

"After drying our outfits we embarked and made 
for the west end of Lake Athabasca. Here we were 
nearly shipwrecked and saw two men drowned in a 
canoe. 

"On arrival at Fort Resolution we met with hard 
winds and were driven ashore; there we lost one 
boat with the whole of the contents, thanks to the 
jagged rocks which abound along the south shore 
of Great Slave Lake. 

"We were now delayed while building another 
boat; two of our party soon afterwards fell sick, 
probably from exposure to the icy winds and rain. 
We consequently proceeded more slowly. Our 
friends recovered somewhat as the warm weather 
appeared, but were never able to take their places 
with the rest and share the work. 

"We saw but little game; with my Lee-Metford 
I shot two bears, whose flesh was a welcome 
change from bacon ; a few ducks were also bagged, 
but on the whole we might just as well have left our 
guns at Edmonton. 

"At Fort Good Hope, just below the Arctic Cir- 
cle, we stayed, in the hopes of getting rest and re- 
cruiting the health of our two sick friends. Here 
the mosquitoes were worse than ever ; they literally 



Who Is to Blame 129 

darkened the air and made our daily lives almost 
unbearable. 

"Another journey of about one hundred miles 
brought us to old Fort Good Hope. Here our two 
unfortunate friends contracted typhoid fever and 
though every care was given them they succumbed, 
dying within three days of each other. With sad 
hearts we buried them a few yards from the bank, 
erecting two small crosses and marking thereon 
their names and the dates of their decease. 

"We now made a desperate effort to reach the Por- 
cupine River before the freeze-up, but on arriving at 
the mouth of the Mackenzie we learned that it would 
be an impossibility to get our food through the Mc- 
Dougal Pass in time to float down the Porcupine to 
the Yukon. 

"Hoping to get fish and game we stayed near the 
mouth of Peel River, for we w?re now very short of 
food and there was none to be bought in the district. 
We built a small hut and prepared to make ourselves 
comfortable for the winter. I ranged the country 
round hoping to shoot a moose, but only succeeded 
in getting a lynx, which proved good eating. Our 
Canadian friend was more successful in fishing, for, 
though the ice had now covered the river and snow 
had fallen for several days, he broke away the ice 
and caught some fine salmon trout. I also shot sev- 
eral rats which we relished greatly. 

"Our great difficulty was in getting sufficient fire- 



130 Smiles and Tears 

wood to keep ourselves warm, the thermometer 
sometimes falling to sixty degrees below zero. 

"I cannot dwell on the horrors of the next 
six months. I saw my friends gradually sicken and 
die. We all had scurvy; one had it so badly that 
his whole body swelled like a drowned man. My 
legs became a dark blue, but his were almost black 
and his gums were discolored and often burst with 
blood. 

"We buried him behind the hut on Christmas 
Day; just one week afterwards, on New- Year's 
Day, we buried another — I alone being able to pre- 
pare the grave, the others being too enfeebled to 
work. 

"We had a few visits from Indians, but they 
shunned our hut as they would a pest house. 

"Whether through fear or despair I know not, 
but one day the young Englishman took advantage 
of my absence, while I was fetching wood, and wan- 
dered away through the snow. I tracked him, with 
the snow in some places above my waist, and found 
him lying apparently dead about three hundred yards 
away. I improvised a sled and took him back to 
the cabin where we found that his hands and feet 
were frozen. It was then that I froze this ear — 
you see I have lost a half of it. Mortification set 
in and poor Tom was laid beside the others. 

"Three of us now were left and somehow or an- 
other we managed to hold out till the weather modi- 



Who Is to Blame 131 

fied; we were almost starved, but thank God, we were 
able to find our way to La Pierre House. Here we 
obtained dogs and sleds and with the assistance of 
two Indians brought our earthly possessions to Bell 
River. While here we fell in with the four men who 
are now lodging at the bunk house with me, and to- 
gether we came through that hell gate, the Mc- 
Dougal Pass, where I suffered with snow bHndness 
for three days. Then on the banks of the Porcu- 
pine we built a scow and crossed into Alaska in June. 

"On arriving at Fort Yukon with our scanty but 
precious outfit we had just sufficient money left to 
pay the American customs dues! 

"We were so downhearted and dejected that I be- 
lieve if the customs officers had taken everything we 
possessed we should not have murmured. 

"My companions went on to Nome and I worked 
my way to Dawson and hickily ran up against you." 

As Jack finished his story I recalled to mind the 
irritation I had felt that afternoon just because I 
had been disappointed, while here was he apparently 
wrecked in body and purse and with not a complaint 
to make. 

"Jack, old fellow," said I, "you have had a rough 
time of it, but it's a long lane that has no turning. 
My partner has sold out and gone to Nome ; I can- 
not do my business alone, so if you-- — " 

"But," began Jack. 

"Yes, I know what you are going to say, but 



132 Smiles and Tears 

don't be rudely interrupting me. You and I have 
had too many happy days in the past to want to 
drift apart again, so you will make me happy by 
bringing your belongings here and calling this your 
home." 

Impulsive, as was his wont, he came toward me 
and, with eyes full of gratitude, grasped my hand 
with never a word. 

^ ^ H« ^N ^ >!< H^ 

I should like to finish this story by saying we 
worked in partnership together, developed our mines 
and returned home rich enough to gladden the lives 
of those for whom we came here. But alas, in less 
than a week, weakened by exposure, poor food and 
hard work, he took pneumonia, and as I write these 
lines is lying within reach of my hand, colder than 
the snows outside my cabin, but gone where there is 
no more sorrow, no more pain, "where the wicked 
cease from troubling and the weary are at rest." 

Poor Jack ! He died with a smile on his face and 
a prayer on his lips, asking God to forgive those who 
had been indirectly responsible for his untimely 
death. 



A Chapter of Grievances 



ELLA CUNNINGHAM 



A Chapter of Grievances 

ELLA CUNNINGHAM 

LET me tell you what I think most about these 
pleasant spring days as I sit at my window- 
overlooking the banks of the Klondyke 
River, listening to the murmur of the water. 

One thinks of many things — principally of home 
and mother's cooking. 

Now, I am not ashamed to own to that, for one 
does grow tired after a time of bacon and beans, imi- 
tation potatoes and cotton flannel onions. 

That may seem an extraordinary way to describe 
them, but, truly, they resemble nothing so much as 
long narrow strips of cotton flannel, and are about 
as easy to chew up, swallow and digest. 

But my reflections upon this particular morning 
are upon another and vastly deeper subject. 

This morning I went out to the cache and hauled 
over several hundred pounds of stuff to find a partic- 
ular kind of flour that I wanted. When I had dis- 
covered it, and had lifted out the sack and piled all 
the other stuff back again, I found a sack of that 
particular brand sticking out at the end of the pile 



136 Smiles and Tears 

which could have been pulled out without disturb- 
ing anything else. 

'Twas ever thus, but it gives you an idea of the 
inconveniences a woman has to put up with. 

On our way in here, over the trail and down the 
river, we had seven of those abominations called 
clothes bags. Whenever we wanted anything it was 
always in the very bottom of the very last bag. 

This continual illustration of the law of gravity, 
by which anything put into the bag, even if only five 
minutes before, immediately found its way to the 
bottom was a constant source of wonder and specu- 
lation. 

I intend to devote the first few years after I go 
outside to writing upon "The Natural Depravity of 
Inanimate Things." I feel sure of striking a sym- 
pathetic chord in the heart of every reader, especially 
of those who were in Klondyke. 

But it is not of these things, bad as they are, that 
I wish to write. 

There are three things which I earnestly hope 
never to set eyes upon again after I leave this Klon- 
dyke vale. They are, a Yukon stove, a man with 
a frying pan, and a dog. 

The Yukon stove is an invention of the devil. 
This is made so plain in every crook and turn of its 
torturous way that I defy contradiction. 

Upon my hands and arms are scars which I shall 
carry to my grave, scars acquired in heroic combat 



A,'* 




A Chapter of Grievances 137 

with this arch enemy of mankind. The stove always 
comes off victorious. It will burn more wood to the 
square inch than any contrivance for burning wood 
that was ever before invented. It will burn with 
intolerable heat just when you don't want a fire; 
and will deliberately and with malice aforethought 
go ''black out" just when you want a fire the most. 

It will burn your biscuits to a crisp, or won't bake 
them at all, when you have company; and it is just 
as likely to bake them a beautiful golden brown 
and done to a turn when you don't have company 
and don't care whether they turn out good or not. 

It will hump its back up in the middle, like a buck- 
ing broncho, and slide your bucket of beans, frying 
pan of bacon and pot of coffee off on to the floor 
just as dinner is ready; it will smoke worse than a 
Regina Club smoker if you don't take the stovepipe 
down and carry it out and clears it about every third 
morning. 

Speaking of its smoking propensity reminds me 
of a story I heard anent the Yukon stove at Sheep 
Camp last Spring. 

Two men were riding past my tent door upon a 
heavily loaded sled and one was telling the other 
about a party that had arrived at Sheep Camp the 
night before, set up their camp and built a fire in the 
stove to prepare their evening meal. 

"The blamed thing smoked so it drove 'em dean 
out of the tent," continued the man, "and they come 



138 Smiles and Tears 

up after me to go down and see if I could find out 
what was the matter with it. I went down there 
and what do you s'pose ? Hang me if the d — d fools 
hadn't built the fire in the oven! Haw! haw! 
haw !" and with this loud guffaw the man passed on, 
out of hearing. 

The Yukon stove has but one redeeming quality 
that I know of, it is light in weight and can be tele- 
scoped and packed upon the back anywhere; but I 
am doubtful whether any man who has ever packed 
one fifty or sixty miles over to Sulphur or Dominion 
will consider that a redeeming quality ! 

A man with a frying pan is a blot upon the face 
of nature. 

All the way down the river this fact is painfully 
impressed upon you. 

You arrive in the morning and go forth from your 
tent to breathe the fresh air and enjoy the beauty of 
the scenery. You see in every direction the smoke 
of a hundred camp fires curling gracefully up toward 
the heavens, and over every one of these camp fires 
hovers a man with a frying pan, looking helplessly 
about him for whatever it was that he was going to 
put in it. 

A man with a frying pan is distinctly a grievance, 
a monstrosity, a nightmare of memory, to be thrust 
away down into its deepest depths and forever 
buried in oblivion. 



A Chapter of Grievances 139 

But the dog! How shall I describe the sorrows 
and sufferings of the Klondyke dog? 

You meet him everywhere upon the trail. As he 
crawls along, dragging his heavy load, with his 
slender body stretched until it seems as though it 
would pull in two, he glances up furtively into your 
face, in passing, and in his pitiful and pathetic eyes 
you read the whole story of his wrongs and woes. 

Your heart is torn and lacerated afresh every 
hour. At all times of the day, and far into the 
night, you hear his wails and moans, coupled with 
kicks, curses and blows from his brutal driver. 

During the few short hours allotted him to rest he 
lifts up his voice in bewailing his hard lot and ren- 
ders your slumber broken and uneasy. 

The howling of a dog has come to act upon my 
nerves like vitriol upon a wound. And with all the 
wrongs and abuse that are heaped upon him he re- 
sponds joyfully to a kind word or a pat of the hand 
— affectionate, forgiving, and faithful ever, even 
when all the world fails you. 

What punishment will be meted out to the brutal 
owners of these faithful and necessary servants? 

And is it any wonder that a woman who is obliged 
daily to witness these scenes of cruelty should 
heartily hope never to see a dog again? 



July Fourth in a Klondyke 
Prison 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



July Fourth in a Klondyke 
Prison 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

DAWSON is too busy to keep many holidays, 
but two are celebrated with much hearti- 
ness — the Queen's birthday, and July 4th, 
Independence Day, which all Americans keep in 
Canada's capital of the frozen North. 

Mrs. La Belle Brooke Vincent, an American 
woman to the backbone, of a most refined and edu- 
cated nature and trained at the Michigan Normal 
College, was imprisoned in Dawson for debt, in- 
curred by trusting her fortune to the slippery fingers 
of one of her countrymen. This misplaced con- 
fidence ended in the financial ruin of the lady and her 
property being divided among lawyers and work- 
men. 

She has since been released, but has lost a fortune 
of $40,000 and been reduced to poverty. 

After leaving prison, I received a visit from her 
when she gave me the following : 



144 Smiles and Tears 

Liberty in Sable 

In prison, all days are days of waiting, and I was 
thus waiting one morning, unmindful that it was 
America's anniversary of freedom, when I heard the 
sound of a crowd of people without and the would- 
be music of a band playing "Marching thro' 
Georgia." 

A sense of my own situation, brought about by 
the trickery of one of my countrymen, and the vile- 
ness of a prison contaminated even by the greater 
vileness brought in by Americans, overpowered me 
for a moment. Luckily there was no one to witness 
my tears. 

Presently a kind-hearted guard in the corridor 
who was sitting upon a box under a window, and 
who wished to prove his sympathy for me, offered 
to allow me to stand upon the box where I could see 
what was passing without. 

It was a celebration of America's day of freedom 
on British soil, a celebration which certainly must 
have afforded the British a keenly sarcastic enjoy- 
ment. 

The crowd was entering the barracks' court and 
Capt. Jack Crawford, riding a bay pack horse, was 
in the lead. The captain is called "the Poet Scout," 
and is also proprietor of the "Wigwam," a tent dis- 
pensary of soft drinks. He was dressed in cream 
white leather breeches, with leather tassels fringing 



July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison 145 

his attenuated legs, and a ruffled blouse. A yellow 
tie and a cowboy hat, jauntily surmounting the 
brown grey hair that lay in a kinky mass about his 
shoulders, completed his costume. 

He turned in the saddle and his eyes noted the 
motley crowd that followed. There was something 
of respectability, something of mediocrity, some- 
thing of the scum of all creation about it, and not a 
few Americans that forgot to be American, men of 
the kind that love license and misname it liberty. 

^Without the prison the howling, bellowing vic- 
tim of vice raised his raucous voice in uncon- 
scious dishonor to his country, and to even human 
nature or any animal nature. 

The cage was overfull of men quite unconscious 
of the fact that, by proclaiming their fideUty to her 
colors, they shamed the glorious land of America. 

The yelling mob was soon reinforced by the scarlet 
of the women of doubtful virtue, all massed without 
shelter from the hot sun in the open court, around 
which stood the barracks, mess rooms and quarters 
of the men and soldiers who are attaches of the 
British Government. 

A young man with able lungs stepped out upon 
the roof of the porch of Col. Steele's office and re- 
joiced in his inability to speak well or at length upon 
such an inspiring occasion as when America is per- 
mitted to celebrate on British soil. The crowd was 



146 Smiles and Tears 

bound to accept him at its own estimation so his apol- 
ogies were unnecessary. 

When a man speaks in the open air it gives him a 
feehng that he is speaking to all creation and cannot 
avoid doing himself justice. 

All went well and he jollied everybody, but it is 
with sincere pity that his words are noted citing us 
as "one people and brothers" — a pity for the British 
in view of the "us-ness" of the crowd ! 

The singing of "The Star Spangled Banner" by 
a few voices followed and then Captain Jack made a 
stage entrance from the open window upon the little 
roof, after the manner of the release of a Jack-out- 
of-the-box, and with a bow, shouted : 

"I tell you, boys, I'm glad to be here." 

No one doubted him, but no one shouted; the 
sentiment was not reciprocated by the crowd and he 
then relieved himself of a made-to-order Wild West 
speech. 

The crowd then hurrah'd weakly for the Stars 
and Stripes ; for the English flag, for America, for 
the Queen and for Col. Steele, and then scattered 
on the various nearest trails to saloons or to the 
sports — like school boys released from their tasks. 

The brown canvas coats of the mounted police and 
the red coats of the military were conspicuous only 
by their absence. The English officials and social 
lights were busy somewhere else. 

Sad enough were my thoughts on this the national 



July Fourth in a Klondyke Prison 147 

holiday of my native land and the anniversary of 
its freedom. I was a helpless prisoner in an English 
debtor's prison, and what I saw was not of home or 
native land. 

Oh, America! That thy foster children, with 
tongues yet unbroken of their foreign ways, should 
so dishonor thee that one of thy daughters preferred 
to be in prison than to be numbered among the free 
who dishonored thy sacred colors ! 

Why not wholesome discipline to make those lives 
of some account and fit to be American before given 
the priceless boon of citizenship? 

Else are we no nation — only a conglomerate of 
waifs and exiles gathered together from every land 
on earth ! 



She Softened the Major 



WILLIAM GALPIN 



She Softened the Major 

WILLIAM GALPIN 

THE Royal Commission of Enquiry at Daw- 
son opened one morning at ii o'clock by 
Mrs. Koch following Mr. Fawcett, the gold 
commissioner, in the witness box. When "Mrs. Koch" 
was called, a little woman in the body of the court 
quickly rose to her feet and appeared to be in a great 
hurry, one might say in an anxious hurry, to go 
into the box and tell all the truth and nothing but 
the truth. Walking with a pert air to the box the 
little lady, dressed very neatly and jauntily in black, 
and got up like a Christmas doll with black Mother 
Hubbard bonnet edged all round the face with 
swans' down, looking at the smiling Commissioner, 
began to rattle off her story at express speed before 
she had fairly come to a standstill. But the short- 
hand scribe stopped her to ask her name; then, the 
way being apparently clear, the lively witness bolted 
again, but this time was curbed by the solemn voice 
and face of the legal gentleman who began to ad- 
minister the oath in dignified manner. This, for a 
moment seemed to curb the lady's bolting propensi- 



152 Smiles and Tears 

ties, but not being able to keep quite still during 
the time when the solemn words of the oath were 
being spoken she repeatedly raised the Testament to 
her lips and kissed it affectionately with demonstra- 
tive fervor. 

Then the lady was really allowed to turn on full 
steam and go ahead. Taking full advantage of the 
permission a rapid flow of language followed, some- 
what in this strain : 

"I cannot speak ze Eengleesh langoidge ferry veil, 
but I vill do ma' best to mak' myselv ondarstood. 
Cause ven I coom to Dawson I speak only a very 
leetle of Eengleesh. Veil, ven I found dat all Daw- 
son had ze gold fevair I too took de fevair and I 
taught dat eef I got a claim on Domeenyon I could 
surely peeck out de nuggets vich veere steeking out 
of de ground. I know dat a man could go mooch 
faster dan a voomans, so I say do myselve, 'Get 
a permeet and stake and get mooch gold ;' so I go to 
Major Valsh and ask heem for a permeet and he say, 
*Go to de gold commeeseener.' So I go; I went 
down to de offeece of de Commeeseener — dat jentle- 
mon dere ; I deed not know Mr. Fawcett den so I ask 
heem vor a permeet. He did not understan' me a 
leetle beit, and for I could not speek der Eengleesh 
all de peeble in de offiece day laugh ver mooch, so 
I go near do Mr. Fawcett and say *I vant permeet to 
stake on Domeenyon,' and he say, 'Who send you?' 
Then I go ver neer and visper right in hees ear, 'A 



She Softened the Major 153 

vriens;' and he say, *Vat friend?' and I say, 'Major 
Valsh;' and he zay, 'Go back to Major Valsh and 
get his request in writing.' Den I hurry off hke 
ze Hghtning, and I ask for Major Valsh's permee- 
sion, and he say, 'Go and tell Mr. Fawcett to gif you 
a perrmeet ;' zen I hurry back and ask ze gold com- 
meesioneer vonce again and he gave me peermeet 
with many schmiles. 

"Zen I feel so glad and taught now my vortune is 
zurely made and I go off to Domeenyon with anoder 
lady. I staked a claim, but I deed not see de gold 
nuggets schteeking out of de ground, and ven I got 
back I vas ver weary and seek; after waiting three 
days I go to de gold commeesioners and ask him to 
record my claim and he zay, 'No, I vill not.' Then I 
say, 'I vill fight,' (Here the little woman's eyes 
flashed and she stood bolt upright in her full height 
of four feet six, and threw forward her hand, which 
certainly did not betoken a very hasty death to the 
one who might receive a blow from it. ) 

"Then I go again like lightning to Major Valsh 
and I zay, 'You haf deceived me. I cannot get ze 
claim record now I haf schtaked, vot shall I do ?' and 
ze Major he say, 'I cannot help you.' Den I say, 'I 
vill fight;' but ze Major, he say, 'No, don't.' Zen 
I say, 'I vill veep ;' and I veep, veep, veep, and soften 
ze Major and he say, 'I vill go down and zee dat you 
haf ze claim ;' zen I vas blessed and now I haf got 
ze claim." 



154 Smiles and Tears 

Here Mrs. Koch stopped, not for want of breath, 
for she seemed accustomed to volubihty and rather 
enjoyed it. I thought, too, that her "Eengleesh" 
considerably improved as she proceeded ; she stopped 
because she was simply hke a clock "run down" — 
with nothing more to say — and she looked round 
with an air which said : "You see I know what I 
have been talking about ; I got the permit and I got 
the claim recorded, and come on anybody who wants 
to take it away from me." 

On being released the witness stepped down from 
the stand and smilingly took her place in the body 
of the court, offering to show her recording papers. 
After turning over many with rapidity, she handed 
in a paper which proved on opening to be quite a 
different document, so laughingly receiving it back 
she put in the right one and then left the court 
with a smile of satisfaction on her happy counte- 
nance. 



White Horse Rapids 

A Chapter from "The Dawson Widow' 
ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



White Horse Rapids 

A Chapter from "The Dawson Widow" 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

THEY camped that night a few miles from the 
dreaded canyon and White Horse Rapids, 
and Captain Day worked himself into quite 
a nervous state as he heard those around him telling 
tales of the many men who had gone through those 
places at the risk of their lives. 

"I tell you, pard," one man was saying, "I would 
not go through those rapids for all the gold in 
Klondyke." 

"What are ye goin' to do, thin?" said another. 

"Why, git out an' walk, o' coorse, an' let the 
pilot chap take her through." 

Then another would chime in. 

"I do 'ear as 'ow the sides of the canyon is kiv- 
ered all over wid little crosses, which is werry sig- 
nificant, don't yer think?" 

"Graves, I s'pose?" said a quiet voice. 

"No, they only shows how many have been 
wrecked, for their corpses is never found owing to 



158 Smiles and Tears 

the suction of the water or the shapes of the blessed 
rocks or the presence of a subterranean channel 
which leads no one knows where, for thim who has 
gone thence never returns!" 

A deep silence followed the speech of the last 
speaker, whose solemn tones evidently made an un- 
comfortable impression on his audience. 

"Now, look 'ere, pards," chimed in a high toned 
voice, marked more than the other with a decided 
nasal twang, "these places ain't so dangerous as ye 
imagines ; why, a friend o' mine last year fell asleep 
in his boat jist about 'ere, and he goes floatin' down 
at the rate o' eight knots. Well, he wakes up 
thinkin' as how he must be a nearin' them air rap- 
ids, so shouts out to a man on the bank, *How far 
is it to White Horse?' and the man says, 'You have 
passed that an hour ago,' so he was kind o' dum- 
founded, for he went through asleep and didn't 
know it!" 

Most of his listeners put the man down for a 
perverter of the truth, to say the least and tried to 
sleep soundly that night and feel refreshed for their 
grand struggle en the morrow. 

After a restless night, thanks to those frightfully 
malicious little pests called "skeets," or "skeeters," 
but whose full title is mosquitoes, the hundreds of 
boatsmen who had pitched camp on the swampy 
shore were flitting about making fires of the in- 
flammable spruce lying around in all directions, 



White Horse Rapids 159 

having been burnt as dry as tinder by forest fires 
in ages long gone. 

"Good morning, Ole," said Bessie, as she stepped 
from the tent on the boat to the shore. 

"Why ! what on earth is the matter with you ?" 

"Dcn't laugh, lady; if you knew the awful fight 
I have had with these venomous blood suckers all 
night you would indeed pity me. I feel that I could 
scratch my head for an hour, only it would not 
look polite." 

"Come and let me put some mosquito salve on 
your face." 

"That is of no use, as you will soon discover for, 
yourself if you get bitten; it is only a decoction to 
catch the inexperienced. You will find that they 
attack all newcomers till their blood gets too poor 
to satisfy the villainous epicures." 

However, he submitted his swollen features to 
Bessie's soothing touch and tried to look relieved 
after a lengthy application of the ill smelling un- 
guent. 

The unfortunate Norwegian was indeed a pic- 
ture of misery. His nose was swollen to quite 
three times its usual size, his forehead stood out 
ornamented with two huge bumps like horns, his 
small eyes were only just visible through his puffed 
cheeks, and his neck reminded one strongly of a 
person suffering badly from a combination of 
mumps and goitre. 



i6o Smiles and Tears 

",You must wear my veil," said Bessie, offering it 
to Die, which he refused, saying he could neither 
see nor breathe through that ''darned thing," 

After breakfast everything was made fast in the 
boat, so that there should be no shifting of cargo 
when the rapids were reached. 

Provisions were covered with ground-sheets and 
other waterproof material; the boat's bows were 
protected with a kind of deck made of canvas, the 
steering oar was lashed in its place, the dogs were 
covered up, spare oars were placed at hand in case 
of an accident and the boat was moved off. 

"We must be very near the canyon, as the current 
is growing so rapid," said Ole. 

*'I will land and walk around," said Captain 
Day, "and will meet you at the other side of White 
Horse." 

Bessie saw the look of contempt which flitted 
across Ole's face, and felt humiliated. 

"I should like the excitement, and would rather 
stay in the boat if I can be of any use," said Bes- 
sie, for she thought she might be able to aid in some 
small way. 

"You had better get out, too," said Day; "we 
can have the goods taken out and portaged to the 
other side of the White Horse and pay a pilot to 
take the boat through, if Ole is afraid." 

"I will be my own pilot, sir ; where others can go 
I go." 



White Horse Rapids i6i 

While they were discussing the situation Ole 
suddenly cried: "Pull your right," meaning that 
Captain Day and Bessie should pull their port oars. 
"Now, steady! if you wish to come out alive. 
Don't talk, don't move, but watch me ; we are at the 
mouth of the canyon and have no choice. Now 
pull the right ! hard! steady!" 

They never knew whether Ole had intentionally 
kept in the current and drifted prematurely into the 
irresistible mouth of the awful maelstrom, or 
whether he accidentally steered too far from the 
landing place, where many others had put ashore 
and were carrying their goods, and even theit 
boats, over that rough trail in the broiling sun. 

Captain Day's face blanched and Bessie felt nerv- 
ous, except when she had her attention attracted 
by people high up on the edge of the banks looking 
as though they expected to see their boat dashed to 
splinters on the jagged rocks standing out like che- 
vaux-de-frise from the seething waters. 

Bessie heard such coarse expressions above their 
heads as: 

"Good-bye; you are off to h 1" 

"Go, back, you fools, and get a pilot!'* 
"You will never come out of it alive !'* ^ 
One more comforting voice shouted : 
"Keep to your right and don't get flurried; there 
is no danger." 

The self-dubbed pilots were very jealous oi any- 



i62 Smiles and Tears 

body attempting to take their own boats through. 
They charged ridiculously high prices for the short 
pilotage, varying them with the gullibility of their 
victims. 

They "qualified" themselves for pilots by sim- 
ply walking about with a pair of oars on their shoul- 
ders, dressing in red jerseys and imposing on the 
credulity of the anxious gold-seekers, all in a fever 
heat to push ahead of each other. 

Away flew the "English Rose" at an exhilarating 
speed; at one moment she was in a seething whirl- 
pool, the next saw her tossed up in the air almost 
clear of the waves. Now she would dance with 
little bumps and throbs like a huge pulse; then she 
would keep steady for a few seconds and her bows 
would toss up a mass of spray which covered Cap- 
tain Day's neck and shoulders like a cold shower- 
bath. 

Whizz ! and they just grazed the stern of a great 
scow which, a few minutes before, had been gored 
by an immense rock near the middle of the current 
and was now lying athwart the canyon, making 
navigation still more dangerous. Two poor fellows 
had tried to make for the banks, but had been 
drowned, while those who stuck to the unwieldy 
mass of ill-shapen timbers were afterward rescued. 

On they bounded with awful speed. Darkness 
seemed to suddenly envelope them as they entered 
farther into the awe inspiring canyon, and then the 



White Horse Rapids 163 

walls of solid rock seemed to close in upon them. 
Ole could not tell what was before him, for the 
passage was not straight. Now the echo of the 
roaring waters rebounded from side to side, remind- 
ing them of the noise which a fast train makes in 
speeding through a tunnel. 

Suddenly a great rock loomed ahead, round which 
the waters are curling in fantastic eddies. 

"Right!" said Ole earnestly, and at the same time 
pulled his steering oar toward him and held on like 
grim death. 

It was an anxious time; a wrong order, a slight 
mistake, made in the fraction of a second, and in- 
evitable destruction awaited them. 

Ole's presence of mind was brought prominently 
to the front, as, rounding a rocky corner, they saw 
a huge raft containing affrighted horses jammed 
hard on a rock right in their Avay. By almost su- 
perhuman effort the boat is steered clear. 

They breathe again, for though the current is still 
swift, the surface is comparatively smooth. A voice 
from above shouts, "Keep in the middle!" In an- 
other few seconds they are out of the death-trap 
into open water. Bessie looked her thanks and Ole 
let his features relax into a smile, as he remarked : 

"The boat behaved splendidly, didn't she?" 

"Yes," said Bessie, with much earnestness in her 
voice, "and so did you." 



164 Smiles and Tears 

Captain Day said he would rather have had his 
face than his back turned to the danger. 

"Then would you like to steer, sir, through the 
White Horse?" 

*'Oh, no! I'll ask you to land where you see 
everybody else is landing. I'm not going to at- 
tempt another foolhardy venture like that. Let us 
at least know something of the danger we have to 
meet." 

Too soon they arrived near the entrance of the 
White Horse rapids, and it was only by great exer- 
tion on the part of Bessie and Captain Day that they 
were not again launched into another vortex against 
their will. 

They succeeded in landing a few hundreds yards 
from the entrance to the rapids. 

Telling their dogs to "watch," they set out to 
walk along the bank in order to note the dangerous 
parts of the "white man's grave." 

It was well they did so, for on arriving at the 
"dip," where the channel was extremely narrow, 
they watched carefully how other boats acted and 
profited thereby. 

"You see, lady," said Ole, "all the boats that 
shoot the rapids in the best style keep away toward 
the left bank and then let the water carry them 
through while being kept straight with the current. 
Look at the number who come to grief after they 
think themselves safe!" 



White Horse Rapids 165 

They stayed about half an hour, during which 
time they saw two boats wrecked, two poor fellows 
drowned, and about five others came within an inch 
of losing their lives, being dragged out with ropes. 

Captain Day was soliloquizing as he tramped 
back to where their boat had been left. 

"I should only add to the weight of the boat, so 
I think you had better go alone, Ole ; Mrs. Day will 
walk along with me." 

"Really, I should like to say I had been through 
those famous rapids, and I'm sure the tossing about 
must be delightful," said Bessie, with just a slight 
mark of contempt on her face. 

Captain Day caught the smile on Ole's face and 
said: 

"Well, Bessie, if you would like to brave the 
danger I cannot let you go without me," and as he 
said so he felt he could kick that Scandinavian. 

"Pilot your boat, sir; only thirty dollars," said a 
man who had but recently gone through the rapids 
himself and felt he was therefore qualified to take 
charge of other people's property. 

Captain Day declined his offer. 'Twas well he 
did so, for the man wrecked three boats out of four 
and got soundly thrashed by the unfortunate own- 
ers when he asked for his thirty dollars. 

In a few minutes the three were afloat and being 
tossed about in the rapids, which did not seem 
nearly so dangerous to Bessie as Miles Canyon ; but 



1 66 Smiles and Tears 

had she been able to look just below the surface of 
the water and see the pointed, jagged rocks ready 
to tear the bottom out of their craft, and had she 
known that it was quite even chances whether they 
got through scathless or not, she would not have 
felt so confident, even on Ole's steering. 

She did not know what made her think of Jack 
and her father at that moment, but she did, and 
prayed most fervently, as the boat was tossed about 
like a cork. Hardly had the prayer escaped her 
lips when she was made conscious of a great up- 
heaval, then a sudden depression accompanied by a 
severe shaking and a shower bath, a snapping of 
Ole's oar and his snatching another in less than a 
second, the shouts of the people on the bank and they 
were through the turmoil, where people were try- 
ing to catch their rope and arrest their progress 
by giving it a turn around the stump of a tree. 

"Throw the rope, Captain," said Ole, "to that man 
waiting to catch it for us." 

The rope was thrown, but the good-natured fel- 
low got it twisted round his leg and before one could 
hardly think he was dragged in the swift-flowing 
stream. 

"Save him!" almost screamed Bessie. 

The man disappeared beneath the treacherous 
waters. 

In his excitement Captain Day cut the rope, 
thinking by some strange course of reasoning that 



White Horse Rapids 167 

the man was being held down by it and prevented 
from rising. Alas ! his body was never seen again. 

Bessie saw three such accidents before she ar- 
rived at Dawson. After bumping several boats and 
knocking a plank out of one, they succeeded in 
fastening their boat to a tree, for Ole had taken the 
sensible precaution of coming provided with plenty 
of rope. 



A Fragment of the Trip 



ELLA CUNNINGHAM 



A Fragment of the Trip 

ELLA CUNNINGHAM 

WE REACHED the foot of Lake Marsh on 
the sixteenth day of June, and how de- 
lightful seemed the change from the 
frowning granite walls and eternal snow 
covered mountains that had hemmed us in so long 
at Linderman and Bennett ! Here the country was 
flat and open; the dark, sombre fir and spruce were 
replaced by the lighter and more cheerful willow 
and poplar. Luxuriant green grass was waving in 
all the meadows that bordered the lake, and every- 
where wild roses were blooming more beautiful 
than I had ever seen before. 

The long, bright days were flooded with sunshine, 
and even at midnight a solemn, soft light prevailed 
— a light as of another world, to be seen nowhere 
save in Alaska in summer, and which seemed to fill 
our very souls with vague, unutterable longings. 

We were to remain at the foot of Lake Marsh for 
ten days, while the boys went on a prospecting trip 
up the McClintock river. 

During the first two days of our stay the wind 



172 Smiles and Tears 

blew strongly and persistently up the lake. Con- 
sequently, we hardly saw a boat in that time, save 
an occasional solitary one, the impatient Argonauts 
pulling manfully at the oars, but making little prog- 
ress. 

On the evening of the second day, however, the 
wind changed suddenly and began blowing down 
the lake. Then came the change. About eleven 
o'clock that night the whole fleet of expectant gold- 
seekers appeared in view, sailing royally down the 
lake. Never have I witnessed a more beautiful and 
impressive sight than those boats presented in the 
soft, uncertain light at night. On they came, with 
snowy sails full spread, racing as it were to the far 
north, falling behind and overtaking one another, 
the whole scene constantly changing like a pano- 
rama. We stood by our little canvas dwelling- 
places and watched them longingly, awed into si- 
lence by their mysterious motion across the brood- 
ing waters. 

One boat appeared most uncanny, sailing ever 
faster than the others and seemingly impelled by 
some invisible force into the distant twilight at the 
foot of the lake. 

We watched it, that one boat, to the exclusion of 
all the rest, until it flitted down the narrow outlet 
like a pale, white spectre, and finally disappeared 
from our sight forever. 

Every day we found some new object of inter- 



A Fragment of the Trip 373 

est, some fresh beauty to study or admire. A trad- 
ing post had been estabHshed near our camp. We 
also found Indian graves containing the ashes of 
departed ones, evidently freshly cremated, the 
graves of which were covered with bright-colored 
blankets. 

The Indian trader at the post was absent during 
the time we remained there. On his door was a 
notice issued by the police warning people against 
trespassing, and beside this notice was fastened an- 
other one containing the significant warning, "White 
Man No Steal!" 

The twenty-first of June arrived. It was a long, 
bright, golden day, and so we walked to a high hill 
that we had noticed, several miles back from the lake 
and climbed to its top. Here we had a magnificent 
view of the Lewes river and also traced the tortu- 
ous windings of the McClintock for many miles 
from its mouth. Fortunately for us, a good breeze 
was blowing the greater part of the time we spent 
there, otherwise we might have been greatly incon- 
venienced by the mosquitoes — the greatest pests in 
the Yukon country. 

Taken altogether, looking back upon that time, 
I cannot remember ever having known a more idyllic 
season than those ten days spent in camp at the foot 
of Lake Marsh, in "leafy June." We felt genuine 
regret when the boys came down the McClintock, 



174 Smiles and Tears 

reported "no luck," and we made our preparations 
to join the silent flotilla drifting northward. 

As we sat up late that evening, charmed by the 
beauty of the night, I silently wished that it might 
be June forever, and we might dream away our days 
in delicious idling at the foot of Lake Marsh, 



A Gambler 

From "The Dawson Widow" 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



A Gambler 

From "The Dawson Widow" 

ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

ONE evening Captain Day left Bessie to the 
tender care of three Malamute dogs tied 
outside a little tent which he pitched in the 
snow, and told her to do the best she 
could with the blankets and few cheap robes he had 
purchased at an enormous price in Skaguay. 

He made his way to one of the gambling saloons 
where he determined to try his luck again. 

Accustomed as he was growing to the manners 
and customs of the people who had left the coast 
towns of America to try their fortunes in the Yukon, 
he was disgusted on entering the gambling hell 
to see even a lower class of men than he had seen 
before. 

It was not their clothes or their language, bad 
as it was, which made him doubt whether he 
would stay or go back to Bessie, but the hang- 
dog appearance of many of the evident leaders 
of the gang which made him pause and consider 
whellier he could win with such odds against him. 



178 Smiles and Tears 

Never for a moment did he think, as many did, 
that he could win by straightforward play; if he 
won at all it must be by beating the cheats at their 
own game. 

Captain Day did not know it at the time, but he 
learned subsequently that an organized gang of swin- 
dlers had settled down in Skaguay, defying the law 
and robbing men under pretence of gambling 
under the very noses of the United States Marshal 
and his assistants. 

One of these scoundrels had marked Captain Day 
immediately he entered the room and sidled up to 
him, pretending to be a new arrival from the gold 
fields and just come in to look on. 

After a few commonplace observations (having 
introduced himself as Mr. Jones, of San Francisco) 
he called the attention of Captain Day to a young 
Englishman who had been induced to play poker. 

He gained Day's attention and took him off 
his guard by railing against the evils of gambling, 
saying he had once given himself up to the bad 
habit, had been bitten and was waiting to get even 
with his enemy. 

"Hullo," said Captain Day, "what is the matter 
with the youn/g Englishman?" 

"Oh! he has lost, I suppose, and is talking pas- 
sionately of going for the United States Marshal ; he 
had better leave quietly or it will be worse for him." 

"You scoundrels," said the victim, "you have 



A Gambler 179 

been cheating" the whole time and now I will have 
you arrested." 

With flushed face he pushed his way through 
the crowd followed by the leader of the gang who 
had been a passive spectator of the game. 

The lad, for he was only twenty years old, made 
his way to the door and had just passed out when 
he received a murderous blow on the head from a 
man who had been waiting near the doorway to 
receive orders from his chief. 

Captain Day saw the body lying there on leaving^ 
the house a few moments later with his newly ac- 
quired friend and gave the police notice of the affair. 
There was a pretence next day of endeavoring to find 
the murderer, but the incident blew over, as no- 
body pressed for a conviction. 

That same night Captain Day entered another 
saloon frequented by old-tirne miners. 

Jones pointed out a weather-beaten grizzly, 
bearish fellow, apparently a stranger for years to 
soap and water. His hands were hard and hairy; 
he certainly was no professional gambler, though 
he dearly loved a game of cards; he was no chee- 
charko or tenderfoot, though he had made himself 
famous in many a bluff game. 

He had a long gold sack and was pretty free 
with it, calling frequently on the whole house to 
<irink at his expense. 

"As I live he shall dance to-night, or the son 



i8o Smiles and Tears 

of a gun will be filled with lead ;" and as the bear 
said this he proceeded deliberately to load a long 
six-shooter, and then replaced it in his hip pocket. 

The crowd of spongers who were ready to listen 
to anyone if they think they can get drinks by so 
doing, laughed coarsely at Grizzly's words. 

"I want a man for supper, and I shall eat Long 
Tom unless he dances." 

Long Tom was a quiet, inoffensive man who at- 
tended to his own business and had on two or three 
occasions told Grizzly to attend to his. 

Grizzly was feared by most of the miners, for he 
was a deadly shot, had the reputation of coming 
out best in a quarrel and was a most unforgiving 
enemy. 

One or two of the more sober-minded miners 
told Grizzly that he could never make Tom get 
on the floor, and hinted that he was no fool. 

This only made him swear the more vehemently 
that Tom should sing as well as dance. 

Passing up the bar Captain Day, curious to see 
how the affair would end, followed the retreating 
crowd at a distance of a few yards and heard Grizzly 
say to Tom: 

"Now, you psalm-singing booby, I told my 
mates that you are going to give us a song to- 
night. I'm not particular whether it is a jig or a 

hornpipe or a reel, but dance you will, or by " 

and as he finished with a string of blasphemous oaths 



A Gambler i8i 

he jerked his gun out of his pocket by a dexterous 
twist of the wrist and pointed it in a direct Hne 
with Long Tom's face. 

"And what if I refuse, old braggart; what will 
happen ?" 

"Happen ! Well, I'll fill your head as full of lead 
as it is of conceit. Now jist you hurry up, or " 

More oaths were uttered and a dangerous look 
came in the old sinner's eyes, which meant mischief. 

Long Tom would have sprung forward and 
snatched the gun from his hands, but on second 
thought he reflected that before he could move a 
foot Grizzly's finger would press the trigger. 

At that moment a friend standing at Tom's 
back deftly passed his own revolver into Tom's 
right hand, which happened to be placed behind him. 

Acting on the spur of the moment and before 
anybody dreamed of what was being done Tom 
swung his hand to the front and fired. 

The bullet entered the left eye of Grizzly, who 
gave a half snort, half sneeze, and fell forward on 
his face stone dead. 

Of course Tom was arrested, but next day he was 
released, acquitted, and a feast was given in his 
honor for having rid the camp of a pest. 

One would have thought that two murders in 
one night would have been enough for Captain Day, 
but he had come out to gamble and he felt an in- 
ordinate desire to do so that night or rather morn- 



1 82 Smiles and Tears 

ing, for it was now four A. M., though the saloons 
were just as crowded as before. 

After a few drinks with Jones, who had made an- 
other favorable impression on Captain Day by de- 
claring himself to be an Irishman, but had been so 
long in America that he had lost the brogue, he 
grew quite confidential. 

He told Captain Day over another glass of vile 
whiskey, how he had been duped in Wrangle on 
his way in and that he had made his fortune on the 
gold fields of the Klondyke. He showed the Cap- 
tain papers specifying the rich claims on Eldorado 
and Bonanza which he possessed, and said he was 
on his way to Wrangle on purpose to get even on 
the rogue who had nearly ruined him on his way 
into the country a year ago. 

"I shall go to my tent now, captain, as I dislike 
late hours and do not care for the company one meets 
in saloons." 

"Let us finish up with a mild game of Black 
Jack, Mr. Jones ; we need not lose much at that." 

"No, I will just step in here to obtain a map of 
the route to Dawson with a description of the gold 
fields, which I promised to a friend, as I found 
great advantage myself in possessing one; then I 
am going off to bed. If you would like to have one, 
come in with me; it will not cost you anything." 

Wishing, like a great many others, to become pos- 
sessed of something for nothing. Captain Day en- 



A Gambler 183 

tered a sort of warehouse, marked very conspicuously 
on the outside, "U. S. C" 

At the farther end of the httle wooden building 
was a counter, made of a single slab of wood; be- 
hind this was a small room with a diminutive win- 
dow, containing a table and four or five chairs, in 
which were seated four of the most tricky looking 
men one could meet. Their faces were full of mean 
deception, and as Captain Day and Mr. Jones entered 
the outside room the eldest one of the quartette 
quietly rose and taking a sheet of paper full of figures 
in one hand and a pen in the other, bustled forward 
in a businesslike manner to attend to his customers, 
standing behind the rough counter in a shy and 
respectful manner. 

Meanwhile the trio quietly rose and, on tiptoe, 
opened the door at the back of the building and 
stole round to the front of the house, looking through 
the window and awaiting ' the development of 
events. 

"Oh, can you let me have two of those maps, Mr. 
Isaacs?" I ' 

"1 am very sorry, sir, but we gave away the last 
about an hour ago ; however, I can get you some in 
a few minutes, if you will wait; I will send my 
boy for a fresh supply." 

"Yes, we will wait," said Mr. Jones, "if he is not 
gone too long." 

The three entered into conversation after Mr. 



184 Smiles and Tears 

Isaacs had returned from the little room, whence 
he had lately emerged, and where he told the imag- 
inary boy to hurry back "with a fresh supply of 
maps." 

The course of conversation gradually drifted to- 
ward card games, and again, Mr. Jones, apparently 
with shy reluctance, told the story of his being 
duped at Wrangle and that he had learned the trick 
himself now and was going there to repay the swin- 
dlers in their own coin. 

"What game was it, may I ask?" said Mr. Isaacs. 

"Well, I don't mind showing you, gentlemen, 
but I trust to you as men of honor to keep my 
secret, for it does not look very nice for me to be 
travelling about with cards like these on my person." 

He drew from his pocket three cards; instead of 
the familiar playing cards two contained pictures 
of horses, the other picture of a man. 

"Now you just pick out the man," said Mr. Jones, 
spreading them out on the slab. 

"That is easy enough," laughed Isaacs. "I'll bet 
you fifty dollars I can pick the man." 

"Done!" said Jones, 

Isaacs lost. 

Smiling, he bet another fifty and lost six times 
in succession, paying his debts in fifty-dollar notes. 

Jones kept winking at Captain Day, taking him 
into his confidence, and giving him to understand 
that he could win every time. 



A Gambler 185 

"Let me have the cards," said Isaacs. 

Jones willingly passed them over for; the loser to 
shuffle. 

"I shall win every time," said Jones, "so shall not 
bet high, as I shall only be robbing you ; but it will 
be good practice for me in preparing for that nest 
of swindlers at Wrangle." 

Six times in succession Jones won another fifty 
dollars, making in all six hundred. 

Just then a knocking was heard at the door behind 
the retiring room; begging to be excused Isaacs 
left to attend to his business. 

"How are things going, Isaacs," said one of the 
men who had been watching through the window; 
"do you think he will take the bait?" 

"Yes, Soapy has him completely in his confidence 
and is now explaining to him how he himself can 
win all the money I have." 

"Hurry up, then; we are half frozen." 

"How is it that you win every time, Jones ?" said 
Captain Day, whose greedy eyes fairly glittered over 
the probable prospect of making money as easily 
as Jones did. 

"Captain, I've taken a fancy to you, and will let 
you gratuitously into the secret, though it cost me 
a hundred dollars to buy it from an old gambler, 
simple as it is. Quick! look! this is the *maw/ see? 
Put your thumb nail across the back of one of the 
corners, like this. 



1 86 Smiles and Tears 

"See that mark? Yes, you see it now, but you 
did not notice it before, did you? I did and — ^but, 
hush, here he comes; now is your opportunity." 

Mr. Isaacs returned and found Jones and Captain 
Day talking about the route over the Chilcoot. 
Isaacs laughingly said his Klondyke mines were 
bringing him in a thousand dollars a week and he 
was willing to pay anything if he would only show 
him how the trick was done. 

But Jones was obdurate and, slyly winking at 
Day, observed that he meant to keep the secret to 
himself, at the same time giving the captain an 
encouraging nod to challenge Isaacs, as he placed 
the cards in Day's hands. 

Captain Day shuffled them and laid them out, ask- 
ing Isaacs to pick out the man. 

Isaacs failed ; this was done three times, till, get- 
ting out of temper and raising his voice, he asked 
that he might shuffle them and let Captain Day de- 
tect the man, at the same time saying he meant to get 
back his six hundred dollars and would bet that 
amount that Day would fail to pick up the man. 

Delighted at the turn things had taken, and know- 
ing that he could easily distinguish the marked card, 
Day put up six hundred dollars, with that of Isaacs, 
into the hands of the neutral party, Jones. 

With a self-satisfied smile Day paused a moment, 
pretending to think, though his eye at once fell on 
the card with the marked corner. Then having 



A Gambler 187 

made up his mind he picked up his chosen one and 
found it to be a "horse !" 

"Great heavens, sir," said Jones in a most excited 
manner, "I'm sorry this has happened ; quick ! 
double the bet and get back your own ! Then come 
away. How I hate this gambhng!" 

He assisted Captain Day to reopen his leather belt. 

The captain was now wholly off his guard, was 
greatly agitated as well as irritated, an.(^ tore the 
leather in strips in getting out a roll of one hundred 
dollar bills. 

His fingers trembled violently as he placed twelve 
hundred dollars by the side of a similar amount 
which the apparently equally excited Isaacs placed 
near Jones. 

The cards were thrown down and Day looked 
very carefully this time. There could be no mistake. 
The cards were without a scratch, except one, and 
that bore the telltale nail mark in one of the corners. 
One more look of triumph. Day picked up — yes, 
another "horse!" 

Before he could expostulate, or even think, the 
door was thrown violently open and two men entered 
hurriedly and pointing to the cards, said : 

"We arrest you for gambling. The laws of the 
States are very strict in this matter." 

Then confiscating the twenty-four hundred 
dollars, and also the cards, they turned a deaf ear 
to the pleadings of Isaacs. 



i88 Smiles and Tears 

They told Mr. Jones that they did not wish to de- 
tain him, as he was apparently an honest man, but 
they must go for the marshal and make an ex- 
ample of the others. 

Jones left with the man who went in search of 
the marshal (that is they went round to the back of 
the house and quietly slipped into the room where 
the reader first met them. 

"I am sorry this has happened, sir, as I see you are 
a gentleman ; but we have a duty to perform and are 
determined to put down gambling. You are an 
Englishman, however, so am I, and I will get you 
out of this scrape." 

"I have only twenty dollars left," said Day, think- 
ing the man wanted to be bribed to release him. 

"Do not try to corrupt me; I will risk my own 
position to help you. Go quickly before the marshal 
arrives and I will take the consequences." 

Grasping his arm and hurrying Captain Day to 
the door, he bade him get away with all speed. 

Though it has taken some time to write, the whole 
of the above had occupied no more -than five min- 
utes from the time Day entered the building to the 
time he left it. 

He was bewildered at the suddenness of the whole 
affair. He felt he had been tricked, but could hardly 
persuade himself that the affable Mr. Jones had 
anything to do with it. He would have altered 
his mind if he could have peeped into the little 



A Gambler 189 

back room and seen the polite customs officer, the 
urbane Mr. Jones and the mythical marshal's as- 
sistants dividing Captain Day's eighteen hundred 
dollars and laughing over the gullibility of the ten- 
derfoot ! 



Juggling in White Horse 
Rapids 



ELLA CUNNINGHAM 



Juggling in Wtiite Horse 
Rapids 

ELLA CUNNINGHAM 

AT WHITE HORSE rapids, during the great 
Klondyke rush of 1898, many thrilHng ex- 
periences were encountered and many hair- 
breadth escapes resulted therefrom. Among these 
are none that illustrate rare presence of mind more 
than the case of a man who was taking his boat 
through alone. 

When about half way through the rapids a huge 
breaker struck the side of the boat, swamping it and 
filling it with water. Fortunately, it still floated; 
and as the outfit was lashed in the boat, nothing was 
carried overboard except three sacks that had been 
left loose on top. The owner grasped at these, and 
as he had but two hands could catch only two of 
them. Nothing daunted, however, he would toss 
one into the boat, where it would be almost immedi- 
ately swept away again by a wave, while he caught 
the third one, recovering this in its turn only in time 
to seize the one that had just been washed from the 
boat. 



194 Smiles and Tears 

People on the banks shouted to him to let the sacks 
go and save himself; but he sat there, apparently 
cool and unconcerned, and kept those three sacks 
going like jugglers' balls, until a boat that had put 
out from shore just below the rapids could reach him 
and tow him safely to land. Here he was soon en- 
gaged in drying his outfit, along with other unfor- 
tunates "in the same boat," as unconcernedly as 
though his trip through the rapids were an everyday 
experience. 



Was It a Dream 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 



Was It a Dream 



ALICE ROLLINS CRANE 

THOSE who have resided in the Klondyke and 
have attempted to stake and record a claim 
v^ill understand the full significance of the 
following "dream." 

Owing to many causes Dominion creek was staked 
with two "discoveries;" the creek was numbered 
most confusingly by the excited stampeders, the then 
cramped and inefficient gold commissioner's office 
could not cope with the conflicting evidence brought 
by the stakers, and the gold commissioner wisely 
"closed" the creek until the muddle could be straight- 
ened. Unfortunately this gave rise to much mis- 
understanding, many appeals to Ottawa and scores 
of schemes by which those on the "outside" could 
slyly stake and record. Pressure was brought to 
bear on Gold Commissioner Fawcett and Commis- 
sioner Major Walsh by their many friends, till at 
last certain portions of the creek were announced, by 
public notices, to be thrown open on a certain date 
for staking. 

By some means or another several hundreds of 



198 Smiles and Tears 

people knew of the intention twenty-four hours be- 
fore the posting of the official circulars, and there 
was one of the wildest stampedes the world has 
ever seen. Men and women started out from Daw- 
son over nearly forty miles of the most vile trails, 
either up to their boot tops in slime, climbing jagged 
mountains, or fighting their way through tangled 
underbrush where they would consider themselves 
very fortunate if they escaped with nothing more 
than a few bruises. 

The apparent secrecy with which the creek had 
been opened to these favored stampeders and the 
exaggerated richness of Dominion added a stimulus 
to the jaded crowd, though there was not enough 
ground to go round among one-quarter of those who 
went on that mad rush. 

Many were laid up in road houses unable to re- 
turn to Dawson; some staggered to the recorder's 
office and had to wait for several days before they 
could gain admittance, only to find in many in- 
stances that one of the rival stakers had already 
recorded the claim he had staked! 

The Government reserved fifty-nine claims for 
the Crown, varying from fractions of "one-foot 
four" (sixteen inches) to full claims of five hun- 
dred feet. 

Every body thought that if they could only obtain 
a claim on the much talked of Dominion their for- 
tunes would be made. 



Was it a Dream 199 

During this excitement the following was written 
and entitled : 

Was It a Dream 

Many of the less superstitious, or perhaps less 
philosophical, say "there is nothing in dreams." 
Now, I am not going to assert that there is, but 
shall simply give the actual facts, and my readers 
may determine that matter for themselves. 

The other night I had gone to bed and was fast 
asleep when suddenly I felt myself sinking, sinking, 
slowly but surely into some apparently empty void. 
Suddenly, without the slightest warning, I found 
myself standing in the vast corridor of some giant 
palace. Everything around me was lovely, the fur- 
nishings elegant, consisting of the most beautiful up- 
holstery, rugs, tapestry, etc. As my eyes became 
more accustomed to the brilliantly lighted room I 
noticed a young and pleasant faced imp, in natty 
attire of red and black livery, approaching me. As 
he walked he switched his tail in his right hand, 
much as a dude might use his cane. 

He smiled at my visible perturbation, and as he 
came closer I stammered out: 

"Where am I?" 

With a broad grin he answered, although re- 
spectfully : 

*'My dear madam, you are in hell ?" 



200 Smiles and Tears 

"Hell!" I cried, in blank astonishment. "If I 
am in hell how is it I see no fire and smell no brim- 
stone? Everything is grand and elegant. Why, 
hell is not bad!" 

"O! but you haven't been in all the rooms in this 
hostelry yet," and as he spoke he grinned and 
pointed to my left. 

To my horror I saw in the distance a raging fire 
and, listening, could plainly hear the horrid out- 
cries of souls doomed to the flames. I could also 
plainly see Satan vigorously pitching fresh souls into 
the raging furnace, looking much as a thrifty farmer 
does in haying time. The horror of my position 
came fully to my senses, but in desperation I cried : 

"I must have a word with his majesty as soon as 
he is at leisure. I suppose he is not always busy?" 

"He does not have much spare time," was the re- 
ply; "he is occasionally relieved by Beelzebub. I 
will inform him madam waits his pleasure." 

Leading me to a Turkish rocker, the horrid little 
imp vanished. 

Absorbed In contemplation of the beautiful rooms 
and corridors I did not notice a catlike tread behind 
me until a voice at my elbow said: 

"What can I do for madam?" 

Looking up I beheld Satan smiling before me, rub- 
bing his fire-calloused hands until they grated like 
two pieces of sandpaper. His forked tail swung 
good-naturedly over the marble floor, while his sharp 



Was it a Dream 201 

pointed ears stood fierce and erect on his diminu- 
tive and wicked looking head. 

**Mr. Satan," I said, in a cajoling voice, but some- 
what uneasily, *'I must have made a mistake in get- 
ting here, but since I am in for it I should like to 
make some private arrangement by which I can 
secure one of these more comfortable apartments and 
escape treatment in the public bath I but lately ob- 
served." 

"Your business and former residence, madam?" 
was his abrupt question. 

"A newspaper correspondent, and lately of Daw- 
son," I said. 

He echoed my reply and said : 

"Ah, madam, you have suffered far too much 
already. It shall be my aim to minister to madam's 
pleasures and her desires, not to punish further." 

"Then grant me one of these beautiful rooms 
opening into yon cool court," I rejoined. 

"Yes, madam, I will do more; so much in fact, 
as to cause you to forget that you ever spent a winter 
in Dawson. Poor girl !" and he wiped away a salty 
tear with his asbestos handkerchief. 

He politely offered me his arm and proceeded to 
escort me about the palace. After showing me all 
its beauties he said : 

"Now, all this do I give you, and you shall be 
the queen of the nether world. Ask what you will 
and it shall be granted." 



202 Smiles and Tears 

lYou may believe that this was a welcome relief 
to me, for I saw my earthly woes had touched the 
hitherto unsounded depths of sympathy of the old 
monarch's breast. But with that thought the old 
longing came back to me — the longing for the at- 
tainment of the object for which I had while on 
earth visited the icy and frozen fields of the north — 
and I could not but heave a sigh. 

"Ah, madam is still unhappy," he continued. 
"Come!" and as we advanced the doors of a gor- 
geous dining room opened, and he led me into the 
midst of a vision of beauty and plenty such as I 
never witnessed before. 

After seating ourselves at the table he touched a 
bell and every possible luxury was served. 

"Eat, madam; bacon and beans will trouble you 
no more." 

I partook of the food and thoroughly enjoyed it; 
but he must have seen, what I was ashamed to let 
him know, that I was still longing for some unat- 
tainable object. 

"Speak, my dear !" he cried. "Have not I prom- 
ised to you the utmost of your wishes? Why 
doubt? Why fear? Speak and I will satisfy." 

"I fear," I said, "O dread majesty, your power 
is insufficient to give me what I crave." 

"And who puts bounds to my power ? Speak, and 
it shall be yours," he cried somewhat testily. 

"Then, Mr. Satan, please get me a claim, or only 



Was it a Dream 203 

a little 'fraction' of a claim, recorded between the 
two 'discoveries' on Dominion creek." 

His jaw fell, the fire leaped from his eyes, his tail 
beat the floor, the lightning flashed and the palace 
rocked. 

"Lost! lost!" he yelled. "The only thing the 
devil himself can't do is to record a fraction that the 
Canadian officials themselves want." 

A lurid glare, a rattling peal, crashing walls, and 
I awoke bathed in a cold sweat, to hear someone 
pounding on my door and asking how far it was to 
the nearest roadhouse. 



THE END. 



FEB 27 1901 



